


Beyond the River Yalu

by PhrygianMode1026



Category: SHINee
Genre: Espionage, F/M, North Korea, SHINee - Freeform, alternative reality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 19:37:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 44,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15692031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhrygianMode1026/pseuds/PhrygianMode1026
Summary: In the year 2033, South Korea is 10 years' past the Second Sino-Korean War.Despite promises of peace and transparency between the nations flanking the Pacific, a military device--a leftover from the war---still manages to make its way into North Korea in secret.Though not so secret to the Japanese and South Korean governments, as the UN Secretary General discovers.Within the same period, the members of SHINee have each weathered the horrors and pains of war, including disbandment, physical and psychological trauma, and internal strife.However, the members will be forced to confront their demons and each other to ensure the success of a mission they never thought would ever involve them:To bring back the one who holds the device and prevent another Pan-Pacific war from happening.Question is, will they be able to do it?More importantly, why them? Why SHINee?





	1. What is This About?

_"You're the only one who has survived through and within the entry gates of Pyeongyang's soul, Choi-byeongjangnim. We need you to go further."_

 It is 2033.

Ten years after the Bombing of Seoul.

Ten years after the last encore.

A Japanese-manned covert intelligence operation picks up the trace of a Chinese tracking device in Pyeongyang, North Korea. The Japanese government is alarmed, and so is South Korea, a country still in the middle stages of recovery after the Sino-Korean War of 2023, for the device was recorded implanted in former prisoner-of-war Kim Jonghyun, who has been reported missing for 3 years. Did China and the North renege on the peace pact they signed? Would this mean war for a second time?

Choi Minho, now living in relative peace in Australia, receives a covert phone call from South Korea's Ministry of National Defense despite being officially discharged from service 8 years past.

The mission is simple: get whoever the hell has that tracking device out of North Korea before the United States of America and its allies pick up on the trace and exert pressure on both nations, worrying the fragile peace between the former belligerents.

But the road to Pyeongyang is rocky at best. Not with years of buried secrets and strife among the very same people Minho needs to fulfill this most dangerous of missions and finally bring down the barriers to peace and reunification.


	2. Enough Tofu on One(w)'s Plate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lee Jinki gets an unpleasant surprise visit.

 

 

 

_Plate 103._

_Plate 104._

_Bowl 207._

_Plate 105._

_Bowl 208 with extra scallions._

_Fresh kimchi about to run out._

_Eomma should be calling by now._

_Someone tapped my shoulder._

"Sir, phone call."

Lee Jinki turned from his position at the counter to see his secretary holding a handphone towards him. He gave the young woman a smile and brought the phone to his ear.

"Jinki-ah," he heard his mother's strong voice at the other end of the line. With a nod, he dismissed his secretary, waved to his sous chef to take over, and hurried to his office. 

"Eomma," he replied, closing the door. "I thought you weren't going to call me this time." He said it as a joke, meant to tease his aging mother who always found excuses to call him up every 2 hours. 

"Well, I just thought you wanted an update on how Jin Woo-ah is doing," she said calmly.  _As always_ , Jinki thought ruefully.

Several years back, he lived with his wife and newborn son in a condominium in Seoul. When his wife died of lung cancer so suddenly, Jinki knew he couldn't take care of an infant son on his own. It was an easy choice to move in with his parents. But for the past six years, his mother has been nagging him about getting a wife to take care of him and Jin Woo. Jinki never got around to feeling he actually needed one. He was all right. Jin Woo was all right. 

Six years ago, it was one of his wife's co-workers in the hospital. Three years later, it became the day care center's owner. Since last year, it was Kim Soo Yi, Jin Woo's preschool teacher. Jinki wondered if his mother called for another matchmaking event.

"Eomma, I just talked to Jin Woo-ah during lunch" Jinki checked the wall clock in his office "three hours ago." He knew his mother would not let up until he inquired himself. "Fine. How's my little boy doing?"

"He's not here, actually. Your father took him for a stroll..." The woman paused.

"All right..." Jinki waited until his mother continued.

"He's taken Jin Woo-ah to Kim Soo Yi's place."

His mother said the name so quickly Jinki almost missed it. Jinki closed his eyes momentarily and asked for patience. "Eomma..."

"I've decided to invite Soo Yi over for dinner later so don't be late," his mother said firmly. "Leave that restaurant of yours to Tak Su, just for tonight, hm?"

"I can't promise anything," Jinki said, looking up after someone knocked on the door and his secretary's head poked in. His mother continued to talk.

"Guest, VIP," his secretary mouthed then shut the door closed as she disapppeared.

"I can't promise anything because as it is, the restaurant's swamped with customers at this time of the year," he reasoned over his mother's nagging. "I can't just leave everything to Tak Su-goon. But I promise I won't even come to work on Jin Woo-ah's birthday." The office phone on his desk started ringing.

"Eomma, tell Soo Yi-sshi I can't come to dinner tonight. I have VIP customers waiting for me outside."

"But, Jinki-ah"

Jinki was already opening the door to his office. "Eomma, let's talk later, all right? I have to go. Give Jin Woo-ah a kiss from me when they get back. I'll see you when I get home. I'm sorry, Eomma! I love you! 'Bye!"

He opened the door to see his secretary standing by the door with a worried look on her face.

"Difficult customer?" he asked, handing her back the phone. 

"I don't know, sir. Kim Chef-nim just told me to get you out of the office as soon as possible."

"Okay, okay," Jinki said, smiling to reassure her. Jinki realized the kid could have been his daughter already if he married early.

As he entered through the kitchen, he briefly met Tak Su's eyes above the counter. Tak Su moved his line of sight and Jinki followed. 

Lee Jinki froze in place.

"That's who I think it is, right?" one of the assistant chefs in the kitchen whispered beside him. Jinki realized some of his staff had gathered around him to ogle their VIP guest.

"Go on, Chef, I'll handle the kitchen," he heard Tak Su say. "The rest of you! We're on to Bowl two hundred fifteen and Plates one hundred ten to twelve!"

"Yes, Chef!" the kitchen staff cried out, everyone but for Jinki scrambling to their respective kitchen posts.

 _This day is not going to end well_ , Jinki thought as he slowly made his way to the most private booth in his restaurant. A few customers craned their necks to watch his guest. Luckily, he had partitions installed in several booths, including the one he was headed towards, to keep the guests' privacy. 

He had to bow low, as age and rank dictated. Jinki thought it was foolish of him to wish he would never have anything to do with people like the woman before him ever again. The gods aren't always so generous.

"Long time no see, Lee- _hasagwan_ ," his former boss intoned. 

"I know, Jung Min Seo- _assi_ ," Jinki replied lowly as he pulled the partition closed to hide himself and the United Nations Secretary General. 

 

* * *

 

2024.05.01, 0800 KST

_As the barrel of his service pistol slowly glinted under the rag he was scrubbing it with, Corporal Lee Jinki wondered if all those years scrubbing the dorm floors and walls helped him get to where he was now._

_Cleaning firearms under the sun in late Spring, that's what._

_Jinki blew away a lone pink cherry blossom from his left forearm._

_"Gah, what I wouldn't do to be standing under a cherry tree with my Yejin-ah," Private First Class Cho, a tall, lanky soldier from Gyeonggi-do, sighed from the table across him. Three other young men below Cho's rank murmured their assent._

_"What anyone of us wouldn't do to be standing anywhere else but here," Private Park Yoogeun grumbled, gently scrubbing the inside of his K2A assault rifle. "Sir, we still up for that baseball game at 0400 hours?"_

_Jinki nodded. "That's what the board said. Are we going to lose to Park Chanwoo's team again?"_

_"Hell, no!" Private Lee Joohyuk snapped, slamming down a fist on his table. "I'll swing my shoulder bones away if I have to. I've just about had enough of losing to those dips"_

_Jinki laughed and smacked the boy's head. "You talk about anybody who beats you at anything, Private. You don't exercise, that's why, morning drills not included."_

_"Sir, you know that's not true!" Private Lee croaked. "I'm always up first before the morning bugle sounds everyday! Ask Yoogeun-hyung!"_

_"Yeah, yeah, like I saw you stand only to continue sleeping by the doorway...still standing," Private Park said, drawing laughter from the rest of the group._

_"Aish! That was just one time, hyung-ah!" Private Lee continued to defend himself amidst the jeering and teasing. "Take that back, hyung-ah!"_

_But Private Park only raised an eyebrow and deadpanned, "I don't take back what I say is true. And no, that wasn't the first and last time you did that. Always up first, my ass! Always up...yeah, you were up and still asleep until 0600!"_

_Unable to stand the teasing, hot-tempered Private Lee dove over one of the tables separating them and mave a move to grab Private Park's fatigues. PFC Cho and Private Yoo Jungseo held Private Lee away from Private Park while unsuccessfully trying to contain their laughter._

_As the young men bickered, a distant memory flashed before his eyes. Of two boys on the edge of fisticuffs while another two laughed during the entire debacle on fish sauce getting accidentally spilled on the mattress. Or had that been a shirt?_

_"Sir?"_

_Jinki broke out of his reverie to look up at one of the aides-de-camp of Lieutenant Kim Gyuhan. The two men saluted each other before Jinki is handed a folded piece of paper. He opened it to find a short summons from the general himself:_

I expect an audience in the Commander's Tent at 0300 hours.

Permission granted by your Staff Sergeant.

_"Something important, sir?" PFC Cho asked after the boys quieted down on the aide-de-camp's arrival._

_Jinki shrugged and pocketed the summons. "I'm afraid I won't be there for the game, boys. Orders from the Tent."_

_The four exchanged worried looks. It was expected. A summons from The Tent was always about something of import or rarely, of happy news._

_"Did...Did we do something wrong?" Private Lee asked worriedly._

_Jinki shook his head and quickly re-assembled his firearm. "I doubt. If you did, you wouldn't be here dreaming of cherry blossoms and beating one of your squad members. You'd be crying your eyes out running a hundred laps around the base instead. Now, hurry up with your cleaning duties. Patrol shift will be changing at 1000 hours."_

_"Yes, sir!" the boys chorused._

Boys, _Jinki thought with regret_.

_Boys should only be playing ball in Spring...not preparing to kill._

 

* * *

 

After making sure they could be as private as they could possibly be in a busy restaurant in Gangnam, Jinki sat stiffly across from Jung Min Seo.

Jung Min Seo. A former professor of linguistics from Hankuk U. Rose to prominence in the years prior to and during the Sino-Korean War of 2023 with her work for the United Nations Secretariat as Chief Liaison Officer for the Committee on Peace and Reunification. The same committee, which brokered and oversaw the Peace Treaty between China and South Korea in 2026. The same committee Lee Jinki had been a part of. 

 _What does she want with me now after all these years_? he thought warily, forcing himself to look her in the eye. Years ago, as her subordinate, he wouldn't have dared. Now, he was no longer under her power. As far as he was concerned, inside his restaurant, they were equal citizens of Korea.

"I apologize for not visiting your place sooner," she began, tapping a manicured fingernail on the rim of her glass of water. She may not deserve the service but his well-mannered and efficient waisttaff were none the wiser. "All the hours are busy, it seems. Yours and mine, both."

_Of course she would know. She would have watched the restaurant for days before coming here._

"If it feeds the family..." Jinki said. "Would you like anything aside from that glass of water you've been fiddling with? We have clam soup prepared. It's light, just the way you prefer it."

Jung Min Seo chuckled. "You don't forget things easily now, don't you, Lee- _hasagwan_?"

Jinki's grip on his apron under the table tightened, directing his gaze to the glass. "You shouldn't use that to address me anymore, Ma'am."

"Why not? A soldier doesn't stop being one even without a gun," she quipped, taking a sip of her water. Unfortunately, that moved his eyes to her lips, darkly painted red, her pale face bringing out the color so vividly. 

Unbelievably, he found himself getting aroused...and angry.

Before Jinki could decide whether to get her a bowl of soup himself or ask her to leave the premises, Jung Min Seo pushed a thin manila envelope towards him. 

"What's this?" he asked, unwilling to touch or even look at the object before him. "I am an ordinary civilian now, Jung Min Seo-sshi. I no longer work for the government and I'm relieved, to be honest. Whatever this is, I'm not interested."

"Of course you will be," she said in a tone Jinki heard in his dreams...and nightmares. A voice not even his dead wife knew about. 

"Knowing you, Jinki-sshi, you wouldn't stop thinking about what that envelope contains. You used to forget easily, yes. Nowadays, you don't anymore, right?" Jung Min Seo pushed the envelope closer to him. "Hate me all you want, Jinki-sshi, but I promise you you will hate yourself even more if you don't open that envelope."

"And if I don't?" he asked scathingly.

"A friend of yours dies and we just might have another war on our hands, darling."

Jinki growled under his breath. "Are you trying to blackmail me now? Last I checked, UN Secretary Generals don't resort to such corrupt measures..."

"Blackmail and bluffing, you know, are far easier to pull off than the truth," she said calmly. "See for yourself."

"Fine!" Jinki snapped, snatching the envelope and almost ripping it open. 

It contained only one thinga black-and-white blown up photograph taken by a CCTV camera in broad daylight of a man walking down a deserted street surrounded by rubble. 

Jinki's blood ran cold.  _Oh my God..._

"Jinki-sshi," Jung Min Seo spoke softly, with a hint of kindness he thought was a delusion brought about by stress as he stared in shock at the photograph he was holding.

"You do know a man named Kim Jonghyun, don't you?"


	3. Love, We're Punch-Drunk...I Hate You When I'm Sober

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Choi Minho is just a man.

The early afternoon sun shining down on a suburb in Melbourne was out with a vengeance that Tuesday in the summer month of January. Australians and tourists alike were in full summer regalia, hair wrapped in scarves or wide-brimmed hats, eyes protected from the glaring sun by dark sunglasses. The smell of sunscreen of varying high levels of SPF permeate the humid air. Wind carried the scent, along with that of seawater from the Bass Strait to the South and the Tasman Sea to the east. 

According to the early morning news, not even a drop of rain was going to fall for the rest of the week but they could expect a bit of cloudiness in the late afternoon. Temperature would rise to about 27oCelsius, a bit too warm for comfort. 

It's really not that much different from Seoul in July, Choi Minho thought wryly, while he sat on a bleacher under a giant picnic umbrella.

Something was going to hit him right in the face but Minho easily caught the flying objecta soccer ball, at thatand threw it back to the field and its young occupants. 

"Oi! Careful with tha', you ankle-biters!" A burly red-faced man yelled at the group of teenagers on the soccer training field. 

"Sarreh, Coach!" one of them yelled back. "Sarreh, sir!"

"Yeah, yeah! Jus' keep tha' ball out of 'is face!" Turning to Minho, the same man asked, "You all right?"

Minho chuckled. "I've had worse things come at my face, Coach Johnson."

The man sat down beside Minho and like him, kept his eyes on the boys. "Well, looking at your pretty mug now, there's probably a divine reason why those neva' reached their target...oi! Kensey! Amos! Pass it!"

Minho took out a cold beer can from the cooler at his feet and handed it to his companion. Soon, the sound of a tab popping and gulping reached his ears. The blue team scored a goal in the first ten minutes. The boys cheering from the field reached them.

"No ceremonies yet! You still got 30 minutes for the first half! Now, move!" Coach Johnson screamed. Minho took a swig of beer. 

Amos Johnson was a Scot-Australian who had lived in Melbourne all his life. Pushing the age of sixty, the man was still hale and hearty, a towering mass of Caucasian muscle and bone. Big voiced with a temper to match, Coach Johnson had intimidated Minho when he first arrived in Melbourne. All his life, few people ever made Minho feel small in comparison. At first sight, Minh thought it was a huge mistake settling down far south of Australia among mostly white people. While the weather and environment was comparable to the land of his birth, the people certainly weren't. But instead of leaving him and his wife alone, the Johnsons, who owned the very first apartment he housed his wife in, insinuated themselves into their lives and even into their careers. 

Minho did not regret coming here after all. 

"You're going to shout yourself mute before halftime, Coach," Minho remarked. "Let the boys play today. You can punish them tomorrow."

Coach Johnson, Amos or Coach to everyone and Coach Johnson to Minho alone, scoffed. "I want them ter hate practice so much they'd really enjoy the game next week." Coach Johnson glanced sideways. "I go' tha' from you, you know. Words o' wisdom from across the sea?"

Minho blinked. A red team player slid to prevent a goal and the ball is stolen. One pass, two pass. Third time's the charm, red team scores a goal fourteen minutes into the game.

"Yes, a long time ago, Coach Johnson," Minho muttered, his eyes following the ball. In his mind, he'd already played the game, each pair of legs on the field of green a minuscule part of his brain. "Red team will win the first half, Blue team will reverse in the second."

The older man laughed. "You go' any otha' skills aside from fortune-tellin'?"

"You got me as assistant coach for that same reason, didn't you?" Minho joked.

"No, I go' you 'cause my baby sister demanded me tah," Coach Johnson quipped. "Speaking of which, Vera's been bugging me about you. How've you been holdin' up?"

Minho guessed it would have come up anyway, especially in a small suburb like St. Angelis in Melbourne. "I'll be okay, Coach Johnson. You don't have to worry."

Vera, Coach Johnson's younger sister, happened to be his wife's closest friend in Australia and was also a co-professor at the University of Melbourne. Minho would dare to say the woman knew more about his own wife than he did. Maybe she even knew what his wife had been planning.

Five days ago, his wife of almost seven years served him their divorce papers for him to sign. 

Minho thought about whether to share his feelings on the subject matter. Then again, there was no one else to talk to. His parents were back in Seoul in a pension for the elderly. His older brother and his family had moved to Canada after the war. Aside from a childless Korean couple four blocks away from his house, the only other Koreans in St. Angelis were himself, his wife, and their two children. The Johnsons were Catholic, none of them were divorced.

Who else would understand what he was going through?

Thinking about his childfren made Minho tear up. He felt Coach Johnson's hand on his shoulder. "Hey, mate. Sarreh to bring tha' up. Me and my big mouth. You don' have tah say anythin'."

"Back in Korea, even if it's legal and commonplace, divorce was frowned upon," Minho said, looking over at the players. "My parents managed to stay together and they had it worse when they were younger. I thought men who divorce their wives aren't men at all. A man of honor, a real man, is a man who keeps his word, right?"

"Right."

"Well, what do you call a man who's wife wants her husband to leave her?"

"Er, a man?"

Minho sighed and opened a new can of cold beer. "Just a man, Coach Johnson. You're right. Just a man who's about to lose his wife."

 

* * *

 

_"Is there a special rule to this vending machine so I can have a Coke?" Minho muttered to himself as he debated whether to just let his money and drink go or whack the machine silly. He glanced up and sighed at the CCTV camera trained right at himself._

_"I guess we have to move on then," he mutters again and turned towards the hallway exit. A few steps forward and he heard three loud thumps, a curse, two more thumps and finally the sound of tin hitting steel. He turned back to see a small dark-haired woman bending over to retrieve the most famous red can in the world from the vending machine's slot. He watched in slack-jawed surprise as the female boldly walked in direct line of sight of the CCTV, pointed a finger at the machine, then back at the camera, and drew the universal sign for "You're dead" across her neck. Amazingly, the camera swiveled away and stayed that way._

_Then, she turned and yelled, "Hey! Is this yours?"_

_Minho's eyes swiveled, too, from the remotely repositioned camera to the bespectacled woman briskly walking towards him. She stopped at arms' length and held out the can of Coke. "Forget about your change. That machine's as corrupt as a loan shark. Take this because I have to get another one before my next class."_

_Minho gingerly took the can and watched her sprint towards the same vending machine. Of course, the "corrupt" machine ate up her money and did not let out her choice. She checked her watch and after letting out a frustrated growl, gave the machine a heavy kick to the side, and ran towards Minho._

_"Uh, you can..." Minho started to speak but was rendered speechless when she grabbed the can from his hand and started running towards the exit._

_"Sorry but thanks! I owe you some sugar!" she shouted as she disappeared through one of Seoul University's buildings._

_Immediately after he felt someone beside him and found his older brother, Choi Minseok._

_"Hey, you've been here long?" his hyung asked._

_Minho shook his head. "Not really. I just arrived from my doctor's appointment a few minutes ago. By the way, who was that girl?"_

_Minseok frowned slightly as he led the way to the parking lot beside the building. "The one who grabbed your Coke?"_

_"Well, I was going to give it to her anyway..."_

_"Careful there, Minho-dongsaeng," Minseok said, fishing out his car keys from his jeans pocket. "The last time you asked me about a girl you got in big trouble."_

_Minho scoffed. "It was a misunderstanding...on Eomma's part!"_

_"Yeah, whatever. That girl will really get Eomma to misunderstand." Minseok found his car and opened the doors._

_Minho laughed. "She's probably a college freshman! Is she?"_

_Minseok sat behind the wheel while Minho took the passenger seat. "That college freshman is not a college freshman but a tenured Korean literature professor here."_

_Minho's eyes widened. "No shit!"_

_"Yeah, and she's a nutcase, as evidenced by the Coke grabbing incident." Minseok started the car's engine. "Complete whackjob."_

_"C'mon, don't be mean, hyung-ah," Minho gently chided. "How could a nutcase teach here?"_

_"She's weird but she's also one of the best professors here. Students actually flood her classes. And for your information, the best ones here are all nutjobs."_

_Minho flicked his brother's ear. "Yah! Minho you brat!" Minseok cried out, flicking Minho's nose in retaliation._

_"Are you a nutcase, then, hyung-ah?" Minho asked cutely while his brother pretended to retch._

_Minseok rolled his eyes finally and grinned, backing out of the parking lot. "If that's an underhanded way of telling me I'm the best, thanks, brother. Now buckle up now or we'll be late for your birthday dinner. We don't want Eomma to misunderstand that."_

 

* * *

 

Minho was right. The blue team won the game that lasted until five in the afternoon. After several minutes' worth of pep talk (more like a pep scream) from Coach Johnson, the boys returned to their homes. 

The older man was quietly packing his things when Minho blurted out, "Would Mrs. Annie mind if I ask you out for drinks?"

Coach Johnson looked up at him. When the man kept silent assessing him, Minho said despondently, "The truth is, I don't want to go home just yet. I...I don't want to go home and see those papers waiting for me."

The coach nodded, his eyes alit with understanding. "I understand, mate. Annie won't mind. C'mon! Let's head ova' ter Wallaby's."

Wallaby's was an English pub located in downtown Melbourne. It was the popular haunt for ball game lovers. Every televised world sports game from the FIFA World Cup to the Olympics was broadcasted inside the pub. Any and all types of alcohol were available for consumption. Minho had always taken pride in two things when he was younger: his high aptitude for sports and his ability to remain sober despite ingesting a huge amount of alcohol.

When he was younger he was less inclined to worry about the world around him. There was no sense of urgency. His early life had been all about music, dance, bright lights, and the public. It was a noisy life, all those years in Seoul. He was Choi Minho of SHINee. He was going to do well in and out of the group. But curveballs do not only exist in ball games, Minho realized with the passing of time. They come out of nowhere and if you're not prepared, you get in trouble. 

The pub was notably empty. It was not professional soccer season. With a brief nod to Mike Hardy, the bartender, Minho entered and chose an isolated booth for himself and Coach Johnson. Jessica, one of three waitresses, approached to take their orders. The young, curvy redhead winked teasingly at Minho as she whipped out her pen and pad. "The usual?"

"Nah! Jus' tell Mikey ter hand ova' tha' half bottle of whiskey behind him," Coach Johnson said. "An' don' forget the peanuts!"

After giving Minho another one of her seductive winks, Jessica went to the bar to relay the request. Mikey nodded to the coach. In a while, the whiskey bottle arrived with two empty glasses...and a deep bowl of kimchi, served by Jessica. After patting Minho's shoulder, Jessica left to see to another customer.

Minho burst out laughing while Coach Johnson poured them each two fingers of the alcohol. 

"They think jus' because yer Korean this is the only thin' you'll eat! I distinctly remember askin' for peanuts!" Coach Johnson grumbled after downing the first shot. Minho followed suit. He met Jessica's eyes across the pub, raised a kimchi-laden fork to her, and shoved the spicy goodness into his mouth. Minho nodded his thanks and the woman grinned widely.

"No wonder she an' half of the skirts in St. Angelis like you too much!" 

Minho poured the next shot for the two of them. "I'm sorry. Manners and old habits die hard."

Coach Johnson gave Minho an appraising look. "I don' think it has anythin' with your gentlemanly manners an' habits. It's your pretty mug." The coach raised his eyebrows at Minho's midsection down to where his legs disappeared under their table. "An' the rest o' you, Vera says."

Minho had his share of women flirting with him in his youth, complete strangers throwing themselves at him, writing him letters, sending him stuff which included female lingerie and body parts like hair. He was used to the attention. A redheaded Australian pub waitress giving him the "look" was not that much of a bother. In a way, it eased the heaviness in his heart and lightened his mood.

"Hey. Jus' because you're in the muck righ' now with yer wife doesn't mean you go where I think you're headin'," Coach Johnson warned, flashing Jessica an irritated look. The girl naughtily blew the man a kiss and sauntered away. "Minho, mate. Don' go there."

Minho downed another shot of whiskey. "Don't worry, Coach Johnson. I'm not going anywhere. I don't think I can anyway. Like I said, old habits die hard."

A long ago conversation with his wife came to the foreground of his thoughts. He recalled her saying something so ridiculous and in such a calm way that frustrated him. She spoke to him slowly, then, like an elementary grade teacher explaining something to a kid. He could not control his temper then and the conversation morphed into a shouting match between the two of them. 

What did she say again?

_I don't care if you see another woman, if you truly want to stay here. Maybe that's a better reason than the real one. I will understand, Minho._

Minho shook the memory off and grinned at the coach. He poured them both another shot and raised his glass. "To me surrendering to alcohol this night, a habit to break. What do you say, Coach Johnson?"

Coach Johnson grunted. "I'm no' carryin' you piggyback home, you hear?" But the coach raised his glass, too. "To whateva' you wan' ter have and ter be tonight, mate." They both saw Jessica bent over double laughing at something one of the male patrons told her. "'Cept tha'."

Unfortunately, half a bottle of whiskey was not enough to defeat Minho. In the end, he almost had to carry the older man piggyback-style out of the pub. Coach Johnson was apparently a lightweight. After dropping off the coach at the house he shared with his wife Annie, Minho let the cab go and walked to his own. The house was dark, of course. He almost forgot his in-laws were in Melbourne and his wife told him she was taking the kids to them. 

He punched in the alarm code and the door unlocked to let him in. 

The house was not in total darkness, however, and he cautiously made his way down the hall. The light was on in the kitchen. He was not alone inside the house.

Minho grabbed the nearest object he could find—an umbrella—and sneaked towards the kitchen. He raised his arm holding the umbrella as he entered the kitchen, ready to pounce on the trepasser. 

"Put that down, Choi Minho."

Startled, Minho dropped the umbrella to the floor and gaped at his wife slumped over the kitchen counter, a large bottle of soju three-quarters empty near her head. "Want some?"

Minho placed the umbrella to lean against the wall and approached. "Where are the kids?"

"With my parents," she replied, finishing the contents of the glass she's been holding. "You thought I was a burglar?"

"You said you were going to stay with your parents," he said, taking the seat beside her. 

She grinned lopsidedly and straightened to pour herself some more of the soju. "That was the plan but, well...if you're not drinking I'll finish this. Go to bed."

"I think you should go to bed," he told her firmly, taking the glass away from her. "You were never a strong drinker. Why are you even drinking now?"

"I'm drinking for courage."

He looked up as she rose to her feet, hair everywhere and her eyeglasses askew. His wife was among the smallest people he knew that he had to be seated to meet her eye-to-eye with her standing. "Courage for what?" Minho scoffed. "I think serving your husband divorce papers and telling him to cheat on you already took loads of courage on your part. What else do you need it for?"

She said nothing, just stared at him. Minho's brows lifted as she stepped close enough to touch him. He drew back a little when she did, holding her palm open on the side of his neck, like she used to. How long has it been since she's been this close enough to touch him...for him to touch her. 

"Just to tell you I love you but I can't fight your demons anymore, my love," she whispered. "And to help make it easier for me to leave and never come back...unlike today. I'm going back to Korea with my parents and the kids next month once I've sorted out the papers. There, I said it."

_I love you...can't fight your demons...make it easier for me to leave...going back to Korea..._

Her words rang in his ears he was almost deaf to whatever else she said after. 

"I...I w-won't go back," he murmured, frowning at the wall behind her, and not realizing she had wrapped her arms around him. 

"I know," she said somewhere above his right ear. "You don't have to go."

Before he could trap her in his arms, her fingers whispered on his face as she stepped back, giving him a watery smile. "Go to bed, Minho-yah. I changed the bedsheets a few hours ago. I'll clean up here."

Like an automaton, Minho stood and went to their bedroom. He could not care less whether the sheets were indeed new or not. He could not see the bed anyway, his eyes losing their focus but his body was quick to react, letting him fall to the floor in stunned silence. He sat there, awake for many hours, his mind replaying her words— _going back to Korea_ —and of her puttering in the kitchen until even the sound of her voice from beyond the bedroom door faded into nothing. She did not follow him to the bedroom. 

He stood and walked out to an empty house. No wife, no children. He was as far away from his dreams as he could ever be.

The war made a mess of everything, his mind screamed. It messed up his career, his friends, his family, himself...

More than the sudden thrust into the spotlight when he was only 18 years old, the bomb that the Chinese dropped on Seoul in 2023 wizened him to the true face of humanity. More than the loss of career and property, the battles he fought with his body and with his soul were more than enough to make him believe that humanity was an illusion and people like Amos Johnson were aberrations.

Once upon a time, a small girl with large horn-rimmed eyeglasses represented that aberration. She was a glitch in the system, in more ways than one, and that drew him to her. He did not let her go when they met again in Melbourne while he was on vacation. He held on because there was no one else to anchor himself to. Minho found a reason and committed himself to stay but he did not realize sooner that his wife had other plans. He wanted to stay but she wanted to go back to Korea, to the life and career she knew before the bomb dropped and destroyed their young lives. She was right about his demons. He never kept them a secret from her. But it was already an everyday struggle to keep them in check here in Melbourne. He couldn't look them in the face if he goes back to Korea. He couldn't.

Minho blinked at the sunlight filtering through the curtains. 

All of a sudden the phone rang. He let it ring a few more times before he picked up the receiver. 

"Hello?" 

"Good morning, Choi Minho- _sangbyeong_ ," a voice said. "This is from the Office of the President of the Republic of Korea. This is a covert phone conversation, please ensure you are in a private setting before I proceed."

Male. Korean, Minho identified. "I am at home, sir, " he answered in a low voice.

"Good. You will receive an envoy from the Korean Consulate of Melbourne at 0900 hours, with orders via an officer from the Ministry of National Defense. As a former officer of the Republic of Korea's Army you are expected to comply with those orders." Minho glanced at his watch. A few minutes left before 9 in the morning. 

"But I am no longer living in Korea—"

"You never changed your citizenship."

Minho sighed. _Damn._  "Not yet, sir."

"Then that is enough for us. Good day."

"Wait!" The line went dead. 

Minho replaced the receiver and went to the dining room. The divorce papers were still there on the table for him to sign, a pen waiting to be used by the side.

_Make it easier for me to leave_. 

The doorbell rang.

_Make it easier._

Minho picked up the pen.

_I owe you some sugar._

Three knocks. "Mister Min Ho Choi? We're from the Kirean Consulate in Melbourne! Is there anyone home? Hello?"  

_Make it easier. I love you. I owe you some sugar._

"All right! I'm coming!" he yelled while signing the papers then walked away to answer the door. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Chinese for Breakfast, Anyone?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More unpleasant meetings.

“Jinki-yah, where are you off to so early?”

Jinki momentarily looked up to see his mother standing just outside his bedroom door. He could lie and tell her he was headed for the restaurant but there was no way he could. Not when his mother knew they weren’t open until mid-morning. 

“Just to meet with an old acquaintance,” he said vaguely, checking himself in the mirror one last time before leaning over the bed to kiss his sleeping son’s forehead. 

“At four in the morning? Is there a problem with the restaurant?” his mother asked, following after him as he left the bedroom. “The last time you woke this early was years ago…”

_ Yes, when I had to go to a studio performance or hurry to the airport for an international tour. _

“It’s nothing, Eomma,” he assured her, picking up his car keys from a bowl by the house’s entryway. “I just need to, er, drive someone to the airport.”

“Hm, it’s not a woman, is it?” 

Jinki began to quicken his steps towards his car. He wondered if telling his mother it was, indeed, a woman he was meeting before sunrise, would create more misunderstandings instead of getting her to leave him alone. 

“Jinki-ah…”

Upon reaching his car, he opened the car door and said, “I’m meeting a woman, my former boss.”

“Your former—“ 

“Yes, Eomma. _That_ woman.”

“But, Jinki-ah, the memorial—”

“I know! I’ll be back for dinner! I promise!”

Jinki did not wait for his mother to start another round of nagging and hurried behind the wheel, closing the door with a loud snap. With a wave, Jinki drove out of the garage and went on his way to a location he never wanted to see again.

_ You do know a man named Kim Jonghyun, don’t you? _

Of course he knew a man named Kim Jonghyun!

A Kim Jonghyun with the same hairline, the same mouth, the same eyes, and the same look...

But the man in the photo looked hungrier, haunted…hunted. 

Jinki stopped at the side of the road to breathe. 

_ We can’t talk about the details here, Lee-hasagwan. We must meet again at the old location. You still remember that place, don’t you? _

The photograph was perfect bait, Jinki thought, restarting the car. But for Jonghyun’s mysterious involvement, he would not have been so easily convinced to work for the government, much less for Jung Min Seo. Immediately he had a sense of foreboding about the case. How did she get a hold of Jonghyun’s whereabouts? Why did Jonghyun seem so important to them now? 

With the morning rush still a good hour-and-a-half away, Jinki was able to reach his destination in a few more minutes. 

After the Seoul Bombing in 2023, much of this block was obliterated save for a few buildings, most of which were houses of the elite. One of those houses belonged to Jung Min Goo, former high court judge and father of the woman he was about to see again after a month. 

Too soon for his preference, which was _never_.

After parking outside a pair of wrought-iron gates, Jinki pressed a button on the intercom. Without him saying anything, the gates opened and he walked in, passing down a cobblestone walkway flanked by two singular rows of shrubbery. It ended at the bottom of a series of stone steps dominated by a set of wooden dark brown double doors at the top. A man in a dark suit came out to greet him. 

“Lee-hasagwan, my name is Park Chul Soo, assistant to Madame Jung,” the man introduced himself with a bow. “She is already waiting for you with the others. Please follow after me.”

As he stared at the other man’s back, Jinki thought he needed no assistance in entering the house. He knew each and every nook and cranny in the place.

_ Was this how I was before, too? _ Jinki mused, fighting the urge to run his fingers along the walls. Nothing changed in the premises. Each piece of tapestry and furnishing was still in its original place. 

Would he find her in her favourite place, too?

Jinki grunted under his breath. Desk, chair, floor, bed—Jung Min Seo had no favourite place. Wherever was fine if she got what she wanted in the end. That was who she was and will always be. 

His thoughts were interrupted when the man in front of him opened a familiar door and escorted him in. It was the old dining room, with a table that could seat twelve people at a time. At its head, unsurprisingly, was Jung Min Seo, already dressed in her trademark dark power suit. With her at the table were two other men in the same dark suits, all currently bent over a group of haphazardly positioned maps and photographs. At Jinki and his escort’s entry, three pairs of eyes looked up but only Jung Min Seo smiled. Jinki subtly ignored her.

“Ah, Lee- _hasagwan_ , you came earlier than expected but maybe this is better,” she said, straightening. “Gentlemen, my former aide and liaison officer to Pyeongyang, Lee Jinki- _hasagwan_. Lee- _hasagwan_ , this is Won Hyung Jae- _sojanggwan_ from the Defense Security Command, and Ahn Yuwon- _daewigwan_ from the Blue House. Perhaps you are already familiar with them.”

Jinki saluted the two men, both of whom were his superiors in the military. Major General Won was among the commanders during the Gangwon Skirmish in 2023 and was appointed director of the DSC two years ago. Captain Ahn, after sustaining a blast injury in the north and officially retiring from the army, was appointed by the current President as his Chief Presidential Secretary. 

DSC is the Korean military’s counterintelligence group, tasked in monitoring the military, domestic political concerns, and undertook special investigations with direct orders from the President. The President’s Chief of Staff was a man who was in the country’s leader’s confidence. One was still entrenched in the affairs of the armed forces while the other was a former soldier with field battle experience.

Both men had deep ties to the military. So, what were they doing talking to the UN Secretary General in secret? And are those more photographs of Jonghyun and maps of the north?

“You were in Seoul in 2023?” Captain Ahn asked. Jinki decided to take the seat beside the man. He was not going anywhere near Jung Min Seo, not if he could help it. 

“I was, sir,” he replied, his eyes wandering to another photograph of Jonghyun, this time walking down a familiar street in Cheongdam-do. “But only for a year, sir.”

“That’s because I stole him,” Min Seo teased. “Best decision of my professional life.”

Jinki’s kept his eyes on Jonghyun’s face, something the astute Major General Won did not miss. “Jung Min Seo-sshi briefed us about the man. Who was Kim Jonghyun exactly?”

He blinked and waited for the memories to come crashing back into his consciousness. But he barely remembered the small things, which from experience he learned were always the most important ones to recall. He wanted to see the Kim Jonghyun stored in his memories, not the gaunt-faced man in the photographs before him. 

But all he remembered about the man would always have been his voice.

 

* * *

 

_ 2nd of June, 2014 _

 

_ Jinki fought to keep his eyes open to stare at the shadows on the pristine white ceiling of his hospital room. The room was dim while the fluorescent lights were off save for the bedside table lamp. The humidifier blew out odourless steam from a mid-height table, set perpendicular to the smaller bed where his mother was currently sleeping in. _

_ The door to his room opened but he could not see clearly who it was that arrived. A nurse? A doctor? Someone who will clean the bathroom? _

_ There was whispering but his drug-addled brain could not discern whether they were from the soft music playing from his mother’s favourite radio by her bed or whoever it was that entered the room. He did feel something warm on his left hand. It was obviously a hand and he wondered again who it was. Had they not given him enough drugs to put a whale to sleep? _

_ Because he didn’t want to sleep. If possible, he wanted to keep his eyes open for the entire surgery. He wanted to see, he wanted to watch. He wanted to know if this was going to be the end. _

_ “Are you afraid?” the as-yet unindentified owner of the voice asked. It was soft and low, like the slow humming of a Porsche car engine. It was comforting.  _

_ “I’m too sleepy to feel afraid,” Jinki kidded in a slurred manner. He thought maybe he could smile if he forced his semi-paralyzed facial muscles to action. “Maybe you’re afraid.” _

_ His visitor was silent for several moments before saying, “I’m already stressed as it is, hyung-ah. Should I have to learn all your lines, too? That’s why I’m afraid. I’m afraid of taking your place. Don’t leave me alone, Jinki-hyung.” _

_ Jinki sighed. “I’m not going to leave you alone at all, ever, if that’s what you’re saying. I promise.” _

_ The hand holding his tightened and in that moment, Jinki knew from the bones in his fingers to his about-to-shutdown brain that the uncertainty of tomorrow was not his burden alone. Here was someone brave enough to be afraid and to tell Jinki so himself and there was only one person in his life who would. _

_ Jinki tried to bring his other hand up but it was no use. Still, he conveyed what was in his heart the best way SHINee’s Lee Jinki could.  _

_ He sang. _

_ Or at least his damaged vocal folds tried to get the words out and in tune. He felt more than saw his mother shift in her bed so he stopped. A hand brushed his hair away from his face and it was so easy to close his eyes after that. _

_ He could not remember anymore the small things that probably happened next. All his hazy memories told him after waking up from his throat surgery was that he made a promise to that night. _

_ Kim Jonghyun was never going to be alone. _

 

* * *

 

“I knew Kim Jonghyun from my time in the entertainment industry,” Jinki told the group, pulling closer to him the photograph he had been staring at earlier. “We performed together and he wrote music. He was a very special and talented person. He was a good friend...still is.”

“And the war changed that, I believe,” Major General Won said. “All of it…gone?”

Jinki shook his head. “Jjong had immeasurable talent. What the industry had in Kim Jonghyun could never be replaced. He will always have the music in him.”

Captain Ahn opened a relatively thick folder filled with fastened documents. From where he sat, Jinki saw that they were all government and medical records…for Kim Jonghyun.

“It says here that after the bombing in 2023, Kim Jonghyun went underground and even managed to cross to China somehow where he was apprehended and became a prisoner-of-war detained in Guangzhou,” Captain Ahn read. “You were part of the committee that brokered for his release.”

“Kim Jonghyun among others of POW status,” Jung Min Seo interjected when Jinki kept silent. “But there were more pressing matters for the committee in Pyeongyang. We set the terms of the Treaty of Hiroshima but it was another who acted as liaison to Beijing for Kim Jonghyun’s release. Lee- _hasagwan_ was not present during the extraction.”

“So you never saw him again?” Captain Ahn asked. 

Jinki eyes were on Jonghyun’s face but he could also see Jung Min Seo’s fingers lightly dancing in front of her. He looked up at the expectant faces of the two men with them and Jinki had to restrain his laughter. Only then did he dare to meet the woman’s eyes across the table. 

_ So, this is why you brought me here…and them _ . _You ask, I keep silent. They ask, I wouldn’t dare keep my mouth shut._

“I saw him last at my wife’s funeral in 2026,” Jinki replied, making a fist with his hands under the table. 

“And you never had any contact with him whatsoever after? Or, at least the people he was living with at the time?”

_ I buried my wife two days before my birthday . I was a widower at 36. I was in mourning. I went into the food business. I am raising my son and taking care of my parents. _

Were those enough reasons to explain why he lost contact with Kim Jonghyun? Were those even good reasons?

“I did speak with Lee Taemin from time to time,” he told them. “Taemin took Jonghyun to live with him after getting back from China but no, I never had any physical or personal contact with Kim Jonghyun since my wife’s funeral. Taemin did call me when Jonghyun did not come home as expected from a short trip. Only then were we able to initiate a search but we had no news of his whereabouts…until I was shown these photographs.”

Major General Won nodded to himself. “So you weren’t unaware of the circumstances of his imprisonment, his tenure in the war camps in China?”

How could anyone who saw Kim Jonghyun that day be unaware or forget? How could he forget the state of Jonghyun’s body then…and his mind after?

“As all prisoners-of-war, Kim Jonghyun was given medical and psychiatric therapy here in Seoul. Hospital and clinic records showed him to have developed Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder but was concluded otherwise functional and not a danger to himself or to society,” Captain Ahn continued to read from the folder. Assistant Park re-entered the room and had an inaudible conversation with Jung Min Seo. Jinki surreptitiously watched the man nod to whatever Jung Min Seo said and then leave just as abruptly. He averted his gaze before their eyes met.

“You must be really curious now why we are exposing all these information on Kim Jonghyun,” Jung Min Seo said to him. “Captain Ahn?”

The captain handed Jinki a hundred-page transcript of a conversation in Japanese between the former President and the Japanese Prime Minister. They talked about a Japanese-manned satellite having caught a trace of an undisclosed technology made prior to and developed during the war by Chinese scientists and engineers. The exact nature of this technology is undetermined and the details provided by the Beijing government as stipulated by the Treaty of Hiroshima were sketchy at best.

“Based on the armamentarium declaration in the treaty, they had no choice but to declare this piece of technology,” Jung Min Seo said, pointing to her copy of the treaty. “And you do know that they implanted specific tracers for each. We thought all of them were accounted for.”

“The Japanese picked up the trace here in Seoul seven years ago, which prompted the Prime Minister to contact the President then,” Captain Ahn explained. “With the help of improving satellite technology, we were finally able to pinpoint the exact area where the trace surfaced again three years ago and when.”

“And the CCTV camera caught a photograph of Kim Jonghyun at the same place and same time,” Jinki murmured in disbelief. “You think he’s involved in this somehow? Just because he happened to be there? Isn’t this too much of a coincidence?”

“That’s exactly the point, Lee- _hasagwan_ ,” Captain Ahn huffed. “Kim Jonghyun was in China, a prisoner in the same garrison that housed the laboratory that made this technology. We have to accept that he was greatly changed when he came back to Korea after his experience there. And then he just suddenly disappeared around the same time the trace resurfaced. His movements have been predictable to say the least. While the records show he was found functional, we do not know in what mental state he is. We do not know what that technology can do, if it is something benign or if it’s something that could put us all back to war. It is curious why Kim Jonghyun would possess something of such gravity.”

“Are you saying, sir, that you think Jonghyun could be a menace to society?” Jinki almost growled. “With all due respect, sir, I don’t believe he could even be anything close to a menace. He could have appeared on that street at the wrong time…”

“Two years ago, the DSC received another message from Japanese intelligence,” Major General Won interrupted. Jinki halted his defense of Jonghyun. “They kept receiving the same signal from the tracer but it was always within Seoul. We assured them that if it was in Seoul, it was better that way than to have it back in China or worse, the North. We were all at ease until a month ago, when I myself received a direct call from the Blue House.”

The older man pointed to a spot on the map of the Korean peninsula. 

“Together with Japan we have been monitoring the tracer’s movements. There was a definite pattern, almost as if the movement was being routinely made. It did not worry us and there was no immediate need to apprehend Kim Jonghyun. But three months ago, Japan lost the trace. It disappeared momentarily and resurfaced last month…with a different pattern. It began to move outside Seoul.”

Jinki followed Major General Won’s finger as it traced a series of points connected by a winding line. The last point ended in an area beyond Seoul. 

“This is where it was last picked up by satellite a month ago.”

If his eyelids could have opened wider than they could possibly do so at that moment, his eyeballs would have fallen out of their sockets. 

The last point was northwest of Pyeongyang.

The heart of North Korea.

“Fuck,” Jinki breathed, falling backward on his seat. 

“The President thinks so, too,” Captain Ahn shared morosely. 

Jinki could not even muster the energy to give the Captain a dirty look. The shock rendered him soulless.

_ Major fuck _ .


	5. Let's Not Go There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home is where the heart is...wherever "that" is.

Someone was shaking his shoulder. 

“Mister Choi? Please, wake up. Sir? Hannah, he’s not wak—oh!”

Minho opened his eyes and stared balefully at the two young women peering down at him. 

“Good morning, sir!” one of them said cheerfully. “We’ve landed in Incheon. Do you need help with your luggage, sir?”

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes with one hand and rose fluidly from his seat in one motion. The two women, flight attendants from their uniforms, stepped back cautiously. He reached up to the overhead compartment and took out his bag. 

“No, I can do it. Sorry, I overslept. Thank you.” He gave them a slight bow and walked towards the exit. 

As he entered the airport, Minho’s mind slowly awoke to the reality that he was back where he never wanted to go to anymore. Some of the other passengers threw him curious looks, a few whispered. He’d always been told his face could be recognized anywhere, which later in life bothered him. He did not want to be seen or recognized. He did not want anyone to know he was here at all.

Not even his own parents.

But the visit from the envoy of the consulate in Melbourne truly shook him. The Ministry of National Defense wanted him back in Korea for a special case. When he refused to say yes, he was handed a letter containing explicit orders for him to return to Korea immediately. 

Orders with the seal and handwritten signature of the President of the Republic of Korea. 

Without waiting for his answer, the envoy left him with a plane ticket.

Seven days later, he’s back on Korean soil. 

Someone tapped his shoulder and he turned to see a young man in military uniform. His identifying patch said he was Private Lee Byung Jae. The man gave Minho a salute, which he had no choice but to return. 

“Choi Minho- _byeongjangnim_ , I am Lee Byung Jae- _ibyeong_ from the Ministry of National Defense, at your service. The transportation is this way, sir.” The young soldier pivoted on his heel and walked towards the exit. Several people glanced their way and some had already begun taking pictures on their phones, which made Minho feel awkward. Even now, so many years after he left his celebrity life, he could not get used to being stared at so blatantly. In Melbourne, people stared for a minute because he with his East Asian features was a novelty. They stared at his mouth during the first few years because he stumbled through English. But they never took out their hand phones to take his picture. Well, except for Vera.

A sleek black car was waiting for him. Private Lee opened the rear door and let him in. Minho ducked just as a woman yelled, “That’s Choi Minho from SHINee!”

The door slammed shut once he was seated and buckled up. Private Lee sat in front and another uniformed man took the wheel. 

The ride to wherever they were going—he assumed the Ministry of National Defense—was silent for the first few minutes…until Private Lee spoke.

“I doubt if you’d remember me but I remember you, sir,” the younger man said cheerfully. “My hyung used to dance back-up for some of the SM artists. His favorite was Hyoyeon- _sunbaenim_. I used to be a trainee, too.”

Minho let out a sound he hoped did not make him seem too “uninterested”. So many reminders of his past…and he was barely an hour inside Korea.

“But it was cut short by the war,” the soldier continued. “Hyung had to go and serve in the reserve forces, got killed in the Gangwon Skirmish. There wasn’t any other choice, really. SM shut down for many years…until Kim Kibum- _sajang_ …”

Minho leaned forward. “Kim Kibum? Which one?”

Private Lee craned his neck to meet Minho’s eyes for a moment. “ _Your_ Kim Kibum, Choi- _byeongjangnim_. SHINee’s Kim Kibum…or Key. He resurrected the company from the ashes, so to speak. One of my friends returned to SM when they re-opened, thanks to Kim- _sajang_. Beats me why he refused the _huijang_ position. I would have gone back, too, but there’s much work to be done for the military so I stayed. It’s not like they’d still be accepting 30-something year olds as trainee idols anyway.”

Minho sat back. So, that’s what Kibum-sshi had been up to, he thought with a smile. It was not a great surprise to hear that Kibum-sshi had risen to the top of SM’s executive hierarchy. It was interesting to hear, though, that he refused the top spot. 

Something outside the glass window caught his eye and Minho peered through. The road was unfamiliar but he knew enough that this was not the way to the Ministry of National Defense. He frowned as the car made a right turn and travelled down a narrower road flanked by rubble until it made another right turn and passed through a set of iron-wrought gates. Unable to contain his curiosity, he rolled the window down and looked out to see a large white-washed manor before them. The car stopped and Minho leaned back as Private Lee got out first to open Minho’s for him.

Minho got out, bag slung over one shoulder. He looked up at the façade and saw numerous bullet holes on the walls. The once-beautiful house had seen its share of the ugly, he mused. Who lived here? Why was he brought here? Is this now where the Ministry of National Defense headquarters were located?

“Minho- _sshi_.”

They say the heart never forgets even if you’ve willed your mind to. 

Minho easily found the source of the voice that called out his name. 

“Jinki- _hyung_ ,” he breathed, watching as Jinki and his ever-present toothy grin came closer. Before he knew it, Minho was enveloped in an embrace he hadn’t felt for many years. 

Jinki stepped back from him but did not let go of his arms. He could swear Jinki looked on the verge of crying. “How have you been, Minho- _sshi_? It’s been a long time, huh?” They stared each other in the eye, the look on Jinki’s face a questioning one. 

The familiar urge to spill everything to the man he looked up to as every bit of an older brother as he did Minseok rose in Minho’s chest. It suddenly felt like he was back in time and that without him saying anything, Jinki would have known. Would Jinki have known how damaged he was before he left with nary a word? Would Jinki know now the fuck up that he was?

And like old times, Jinki must have known. He didn’t let Minho say a word, just hitched an arm about his shoulders despite the height difference, and firmly but slowly led him into the house, Private Lee and two other men in dark suits following after them. He was curious about their situation now and about who the men in the suits were but Minho decided to at least give Jinki and himself the chance to speak as friends. 

Because something told Minho that after such, treating each other as they used to was not going to get the job the President wanted done.

He and Jinki arrived before a set of double doors that automatically opened to a living room, replete with sofas and armchairs facing each other over a glass coffee table. Private Lee also entered, this time carrying a plastic bag filled with round bowls topped with cling wrap. 

“I figured you didn’t have authentic Korean fare in Australia so I had these delivered,” Jinki said excitedly, taking out the bowls filled with rice, beef bone soup, kimchi, and numerous other side dishes. “From my restaurant, of course! Go on! Eat!”

“What? No chicken?” Minho asked with a smirk. 

Jinki chuckled. “A bit hard to come by this winter,” he replied, partaking of the feast and nodding to Private Lee who left them alone.

They spoke easily afterward, talking about benign events in the past, Jinki’s restaurant, Minho’s fitness gym and coaching duties. They stayed away from the topic of the war, and the details of their personal lives for as long as they could but the rice could only last for so long. Minho, never one to prolong or delay the inevitable—he forced down thoughts of his divorce—asked, “What does the President want me to help with exactly?”

“And I assume you have other questions related to that,” said Jinki, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Like, why are we here, in this house, and not the Defense headquarters. I don’t know what you have to do with this but at least I can tell you where this all came from.”

They rose together and went to the door. “I wish this wasn’t the reason why you’re back home, Minho- _sshi_. Come, follow me.”

_ Follow me _ .

Minho bit back a funny quip. Indeed, he’d followed Lee Jinki so many years of his adolescent life. It was not so difficult to do it then. Still isn’t now. 

Private Lee and the two men once again shadowed them towards another room, which was larger, with a long table strewn with documents, folders, and maps. Laptops and tablets were stacked at one end. Jinki pulled one tablet towards him as he settled into one of the side seats. Minho moved towards the one at the head of the table and looked up when Jinki made a sound. He raised his eyebrows for Jinki to continue but the other man just shook his head and sat down comfortably.

Minho decided to take the one beside him instead and the sudden loosening of Jinki’s previously stiff stance did not escape his notice. He would file that bit of observation to ask about later.

“I don’t think this is your house, Jinki- _hyung_ ,” Minho remarked, looking over at the papers and photographs in front of him. “You look like someone’s about to come and pounce on you like you’re not supposed to be here.”

He thought he might have heard Jinki say he really wasn’t supposed to be here but stopped with the ribbing when a familiar image caught his eye.

“Jinki- _hyung_ , why are there so many maps of the north here?”

He watched Jinki’s head slowly come up, a look on disbelief on his face. 

“Of all the things on the table, it’s the maps that bothered you?”

Minho frowned. “Of course they bothered me! Or have you forgotten what happened to me and my men back there?”

His experience in the north was taboo. No one ever asked about it—not his family and not his friends. He never forced anyone to keep silent about it but he guessed the look on his face whenever the topic came up was enough to dissuade them from talking. His question seemed to startle Jinki into silence but not for long. 

“Minho- _sshi_ , it’s about Jonghyun- _sshi_.” He reached out as Jinki handed him one of the photographs he missed, one of Jonghyun walking down a street. The image was a little grainy but Kim Jonghyun's face was one that he would never, ever forget.

“Did you know he has been missing for the past three years? He never left a note, never called anyone. You do know he doesn’t have any family left after the war. But he didn’t contact any of his friends, not even me.” 

Jinki lifted out one of the maps. “You still know how to read this?”

Minho scoffed. “Kind of hard to forget when knowing how to read this saved my life. No, I didn’t know Jonghyun- _sshi_ was missing. I thought he was living in Seoul and writing music, like he told me the last time I was here. He seemed alright, then. What happened?”

“I don’t know myself and I even asked—" Jinki cut off the statement with a shake of the head. “I’m no longer with the government or any other office, you should know, Minho- _sshi_. I opened a restaurant so I could finally live in peace with my son. But what happened to our friend and what could happen to him or because of him could put us all in danger...again.”

“What do you mean? Like, war?” Minho asked incredulously, scanning the maps of North Korea. “But we just got out of one!”

“I’m here because the UN Secretary General approached me to help as liaison to the North,” Jinki supplied. “That was part of my job description when I was with the UN Committee on Peace and Reunification, do you remember?”

“But what has this anything to do with Jonghyun- _sshi_? The stuff on this table is enough to make anyone think we're making a battle plan.”

Jinki motioned to the photographs and the maps. “Seven years ago, Japanese intelligence picked up the trace of a Chinese device included in the armamentarium declaration of the Treaty of Hiroshima. The details and records of that device are vague, so is its actual function and purpose. They just saw fit to include it. Then it suddenly resurfaced three years ago here in Seoul. The Japanese and South Korean governments have been in discussions about this, though didn’t seem like a threat since it was in Seoul and never left its borders…until October last year.” Jinki pointed to the pattern of red dots on the map. “The trace began to move northward, leaving Seoul and ending northwest of Pyeongyang. There is only one of its kind, long thought to have been destroyed when the garrison in Guangzhou burned near the end of the war.”

After Jinki's explanation, it took Minho a split second to deduce why Kim Jonghyun was the center of the investigation. “I remember Jonghyun- _sshi_ was a prisoner-of-war in Guangzhou,” he stated. “They believe Jonghyun might have it? On his person?”

“The photographs of Jonghyun- _sshi_ from the functioning CCTV cameras all coincide with the areas where the tracer was caught repeatedly. I don’t want to believe it myself but this is all the evidence we have.”

Minho set the wheels in his head moving and a thought came to him. “If this device was declared in the armamentarium, then it’s logical to assume it’s a weapon of some sort, which obviously is a danger to human life. If this gets out in the open, that we’ve housed something like this in Seoul, and that it has been detected going into North Korea, then the government does have something to be worried about. But we don’t know that yet. This could just be all coincidence or that tracer could be nothing but a bug or a glitch. One thing I don’t understand is why the UN Secretary General is involved. Isn’t that, I don’t know, breach of protocol or something? Doesn't that complicate things and might make our allies and former enemies panic?”

Despite his long years away from Korea, Minho was never ignorant of the events in the country of his birth. He knew the current UN Secretary General was a Korean woman. And he also knew that secretaries-general of the United Nations were not allowed to meddle in political affairs between governments, especially their countries of birth or origin. 

He silently watched the emotions playing on Jinki’s face as Jinki spoke, “It was the President's decision to notify her of this problem and for the reason you just said, we’re here. This is her house and we’ve been secretly holding meetings here with the Director of the DSC and the President’s Chief Secretary since early December last year. You’re right, Minho- _sshi_. If word of this gets out, we’re going to have the entire world banging on our doors—the United States of America, Japan, Australia…even China and North Korea. They may claim to have nothing to do with it while we claim that they do to save our own skins. That device was supposed to have been destroyed…so why is it still existent? They could all ask: Why was it in the hands of a South Korean civilian diagnosed with a mental illness? If Japan had known, why wasn’t it declared openly? If this gets exposed to the public, the government will be in turmoil. And where will that lead the citizens of Korea, Minho- _sshi_?”

“Madame Secretary and the President obviously don’t want the extra hassle,” Minho said scathingly, shaking his head. “You…or they want this to be resolved as quietly as possible so they took you away from your restaurant to help.”

“Yes.”

“This seems like it could be resolved on the political front—quietly, Jinki- _hyung_ , and that’s your specialty. What am I here for?” Minho asked boldly, even though his heart and mind were telling him he already knew the answer. But it was a terrifying one, for sure. He couldn’t bear to think about it, let alone ask about it aloud. 

“I didn’t want to bring you here, Minho- _sshi_ , you should know that,” Jinki said regretfully. “I didn’t even mention your name but these people know everything about me, about you, about the others. You didn’t have to say anything, your eyes always tell me the truth. I knew you didn’t want to stay here after—whatever. The President gave an order, one not even the Minister of National Defense could defend against or countermand.”

To keep himself from blacking out, Minho snorted. Then he chuckled. He was in the middle of a laughing fit when someone knocked on the door and a man he did not recognize entered. He walked over to Jinki and saw his friend sigh despondently. He nodded to the strange man and stood just as several voices came from the hallway outside. Minho rose to his full height when he saw the new arrivals.

Automatically, his hand flew to his temple in the trademark salute to his former superiors. Both men had known him during his reserve military enlistment service and during the war. Major General Won and Captain Ahn saluted back. To the woman with them, he bowed. 

“From the look on your face I see Lee- _hasagwan_ has briefed you, at least superficially,” Captain Ahn said, taking a seat beside the Major General. The woman took the seat at the head of the table. 

“I’m sorry we haven’t been introduced properly,” she said, extending a hand. “I am Jung Min Seo, United Nations Secretary General. Welcome back to Korea, Choi Minho- _byeongjangnim_. I’m sure this isn’t quite the welcome you wanted. Have you had lunch at least?”

Minho glanced at Jinki who seemed to be busy staring intently at a document. “Yes, I have, ma'am, thank you for asking.”

Major General Won grinned at Minho, tapping his shoulder. “You told me once I deserved another star, Choi- _byeongjangnim_. Aren’t you the prophet?”

Minho smiled slightly and sat down after the older men did. The Secretary General motioned to the strange man earlier. Minho turned to say something to Jinki but stopped short when he saw the look on his friend’s face. He subtly moved his head and realized Jinki was looking almost mutinously at the secretary general and the man in conversation. 

Minho recalled observing the woman casually as she entered the room: dressed in a pewter gray business suit and black high heeled shoes, graying hair done up in a tight bun, rimless spectacles on a patrician nose, high cheekbones, and blood-red lips (the only color to an otherwise porcelain white face). His soon-to-be-ex-wife would have described her as the White Witch of Narnia, which could concisely describe the woman’s beauty: cold and mysterious. Definitely not Lee Jinki’s type. So what's with murder written on Lee Jinki's face?

When Minho cleared his throat, Jinki moved his attention towards him. 

“Are you all right, Jinki-hyung?” he whispered. 

Jinki’s eyebrows rose in that way when he was irked about something. “Yes, of course…as all right as I could possibly be under the circumstances. Wait a while and they’ll explain the details for maybe an hour. Then I’ll probably be asking you the same question.”

True enough, the two men from the government started almost an hour of discussion over the origin of their current dilemma. In the end, the only conclusion they could make was that Kim Jonghyun may or may not be aware about the device and has gone to the north due to an impaired mental state. 

“But whatever the reason may be, one thing is for certain: Kim Jonghyun’s whereabouts must never be made known to the north or to China,” Captain Ahn said. “Japan can take care of America and our allies. It is up to us to protect our own.”

Jung Min Seo nodded. “Kim Jonghyun, or the device, was last traced already outside Pyeongyang but we do not know now where he could be…or if the north already has him and they’re not telling us. Needless to say, we have to find him and get him out of North Korea before anybody else knows or does.”

At that, all eyes turned to Minho. He folded his hands together to keep them from shaking as he looked up into the face of Major General Won. 

“If I may speak,” Minho began. The men nodded. “I’m sure it’s no secret from any of you what happened to me and to other soldiers in Pyeongyang. And I would rather not go there again. Call me a coward, if you must, but I am not comfortable being—“

_ Asked _ ? The short note from the President did not sound like he was asking him for help. It was not a request either. 

“—and I do have family in Australia—“

_ One I’m about to lose anyway _ …

“We do understand your hesitation,” Jung Min Seo said, removing her eyeglasses, to stare into his eyes. For a moment, Minho thought she could actually read into his thoughts, know that he was screaming inside _No! Don’t make me go back there, please!_ And she wouldn’t care.

“But you’re the only one who has survived through and within the entry gates of Pyeongyang’s soul, Choi- _byeongjangnim_ ,” she told him, pointing a finger outside the city of Pyeongyang, at the point where the tracer was last detected. “We need you to go further.”

Minho was right. She didn't care. 

He waited for Jinki-hyung to ask him if he was all right.

He wasn't asked.

 

* * *

 

_"Hyung-ah, I'm sorry," Minho said, tightly embracing Jinki, who had his arms wrapped around a silver urn filled with his wife's ashes. From a corner of the room, the sound of Jinki's mother-in-law's weeping could be heard. "I'm really sorry." He felt Jinki's body shake as he tried to contain his grief. Minho held him tighter._

_"Thank you, Minho-sshi," Jinki croaked, stepping back from Minho's embrace. Minho could see the sorrow and pain on Jinki's face even if he was smiling albeit tiredly right now. Minho had never met Jinki's wife in person but he had spoken to her through the internet right after Jinki's son was born. She seemed like a sweet girl, a military nurse Jinki met in the course of his work for the United Nations. Upon receiving news that Jinki's wife finally succumbed to lung cancer, Minho had wanted to come and be with his hyung. But there was one thing that kept him from leaving immediately and his wife had to guilt him into going. So he bought a plane ticket and went back to Korea._

_Jinki had wept in his arms when he arrived the day before and Minho did not hold his own tears. He couldn't imagine the pain of losing his wife and his thoughts strayed to her often even when they were together. He nagged his wife to get regular health check-ups with their doctors. He didn't want to know how hard it was to watch someone you loved slowly die and then bury them._

_"Will you be staying long?" Jinki asked him._

_"A week more," he replied, glancing at his parents talking with Jinki's. "I haven't seen my parents for a while. I'll be staying with them."_

_Jinki nodded his approval. "You should. They're getting old and lonely without you and Minseok around."_

_"I know, I know," Minho said with a sigh. "I wanted to take them with me to Australia but they don't want to leave Seoul. Thanks, though. I know you and your wife visited them from time to time."_

_They talked a bit more about inconsequential things before one of Jinki's relatives approached to offer their condolences. Minho excused himself to walk over to his parents when he saw someone at the refreshments table. He slowly walked over and said, "Jonghyun-sshi."_

_Jonghyun paused in the act of drinking from a paper cup and looked all the way up at Minho's face. There was a few seconds of confusion on Jonghyun's face before he broke into a smile and returned Minho's greeting. "Minho-sshi. I haven't seen you in ages." They hugged each other tightly for several moments and then let go._

_"When did you arrive?" Jonghyun asked, leading Minho to an empty table where they sat face-to-face._

_"Yesterday," replied Minho, his eyes roaming Jonghyun's face. It was already two years since Jonghyun was released from captivity in China. He was not present when he returned to Korea but Minho had seen the pictures and videos. Suffice to say, Jonghyun looked healthier now._

Post-traumatic stress disorder _, Jinki-hyung had told him right after the war. Minho contemplated that whatever shit happened to him in Pyeongyang, it could have been much worse for someone like Kim Jonghyun, one of the most gentle and sensitive people he knew in the world. People have always thought that was Jonghyun's weakness, that he felt things too deeply, which made him cry and breakdown easily. But to Minho, that also made Kim Jonghyun one of the strongest and bravest people on the planet. Mnho thought that if he was even a bit more like Jonghyun-sshi, he wouldn't be so tortured as he was now._

_"How have you been, Jonghyun-sshi?" Minho asked._

_"I think I'm doing all right," Jonghyun said with a small smile. "I have been on a writing frenzy lately. My companions have been complaining of the noise."_

_How anyone coulod complain that Jonghyun's music was noise was beyond Minho. Seeing the excited glint in his eyes lightened Minho's heart. "Really? They're so mean. Don't they know they're living with a god? Wow! Such disrespect! Where are you staying now?"_

_Jonghyun's smile faltered a little and he hesitated for a moment before answering, "Just a newly-built condominium complex in Cheongdam-dong. Of course, much of the area is still being fixed after the damages brought by the war but it's a safe area now."_

_"And these people you live with? Are they all right?" Minho inquired, ignoring what he saw._

_Jonghyun nodded. "They're friendly. We take care of each other. It actually feels like I'm back in our old dorm, you know?" He took a drink from his paper cup and turned his head to watch Jinki carry his wife's ashes everywhere he went to in the room. Minho followed him with his eyes, too. "You ever think about those days, Minho-sshi?" Jonghyun suddenly asked. "The music, the dancing, the bright lights?"_

_"I remember the screaming girls," Minho said strongly, causing Jonghyun to chuckle quietly. "The noonas and the fanchants."_

_His older friend gave him a sideways glance. "You married one."_

_Minho shrugged. "Believe it or not, she wasn't even a SHINee fan. She called herself an 'ARMY' and liked BTS. Still does. What an idiot."_

_He and Jonghyun shared a laugh. "That actually tells me the truth about your marriage. The wife is the boss, right?"_

_"Fortunately, yes."_

_They were both silent for a beat until Jonghyun asked again, "But, really? Do you still think about what it was like? What it could've been like for us if the war hadn't happened? What and where would we be now?"_

_When Minho said nothing, Jonghyun continued, "I still think about those days. All the time. Even when I was in prison. Did you know I sang my prison guards to sleep? I'm not making this up! A few times I've even seen some of them tap their feet. There was one guard who actually knew the steps to Lucifer, that hand-and-finger movement in the chorus. But when I confronted him about it, he claimed he was dancing to EXO. EXO was big in China, I finally remembered. So I performed EXO's songs most of the time but I always inject a bit of SHINee other days. Anyway, I just decided to sing my days in prison. You should know I sang well. It kept me sane and maybe, kept them from finally doing away with me. Or, at least, kept me as sane as anyone could be in a place like that."_

_Minho's gaze flew to Jonghyun's face but there was nothing there to indicate he was still bothered by his experiences there. Jonghyun, in fact, looked at peace. Then Jonghyun stared into his eyes in an unnerving way. "It must have been so bad for you, Minho-sshi. I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you. I wish I could do something to make it better but I don't know how. Maybe someday I'll find a way. Anyway, enough of this gloomy topic. Are you back for good, Minho-sshi? I'm in the process of writing a song; it has a rap part in it. Maybe you'd like to give it a try?"_

_Minho said nothing because the thought of staying in Korea and going back to a copy of the life he tried to forget made Minho reluctant to say yes. He was no longer the Choi Minho that Jonghyun-sshi knew. Yet loathe as he was to admit it, he did miss the days when he didn't have to think about surviving, dying, or killing. Life was grand before he reached his 30s. Grand and yet so simple._

_"Well, just in case you change your mind, I'm not going anywhere," Jonghyun said, rising to his feet to throw away the used paper cup._

_Somewhere in the room, Jinki's son started to cry for his mother._

 

* * *

 

Jung Min Seo, Major General Won, and Captain Ahn left soon after. They didn't wait for Minho to give an answer. He could see the certainty in their eyes that he would follow the President's orders even if he didn't want to.

"You said this was her house. Why is she leaving?" Minho asked Jinki as Jung Min Seo left the premises, shadowed by the strange man whose name he failed to catch. 

"She'll come back," Jinki said nonchalantly. "She has a public day job. It might take her a week or more in New York but she'll be back. This is her house, anyway. You and I, though, are going to my house..."

Minho shook his head. "Jinki- _hyung_ , I don't want to impose. I can always stay in a hotel..."

"Unless you have an unlimited amount of money to pay for a hotel, you're coming with me," Jinki said firmly, pulling Minho out of the house. Private Lee was already waiting beside the same car that took him from the airport earlier. "And you're right. I'm your hyung. Older brothers don't leave their younger brothers out in the cold."

Minho's arrival at Jinki's house caused such a happy furor that even Minho was not immune to. He didn't want to stay with Jinki- _hyung_ , not only because he didn't want to be an inconvenience but because his parents might get news from Jinki's. Dinner was a noisy affair and Minho succeeded in fielding off questions about his wife and children. He had fun interacting with Jinki-hyung's son, Jin Woo, who had his father's toothy smile and slit eyes. Minho missed his own children terribly.

Later that night, Jinki-hyung invited Minho for hot chocolate on the veranda. Wrapped in thick blankets, the two sat on wicker chairs and mused to themselves in silence. Minho watched the mist he breathed out of his nose mix with the steam coming from the mug he cradled between his hands.

"I guess I would have to see my parents after all," said Minho, inhaling the steam. "Your mother already wants me to accompany her tomorrow to see them."

Jinki gave a noncommital sound. "You should. They're your parents. Don't be an ass and not see them while you're here. You don't know when you'll get another chance."

Minho knew that and did not hope for this mission he got dragged into to be a safe one. Anywhere from the DMZ northward, there was the possibility of violence and death. But even during the time he spent there, Minho believed it was better to die than be caught. He still believed that. He thought now of his wife and his young children. Maybe it was indeed better if he had a more legitimate reason to be away from them. Maybe  _this_  was better. 

_Maybe that's a better reason than the real one. I will understand, Minho. Make it easier..._

Maybe this time, he could make his atonement. This is his chance. 

"You know I would've said yes eventually," Minho started. "Right?"

"I know," Jinki intoned, taking a sip of his chocolate drink.

"It has nothing to do with the President or the government or world peace."

Jinki nodded. "I know."

"I would run right back there for anyone of you."

"Yes, I know."

"This is so fucked up!" Minho groaned, about to take a drink when Jinki slapped his head. Some of the hot drink spilled on Minho's lip and chin. "Yah!" Minho spluttered.

"Watch your mouth, my son could hear," Jinki warned. 

"Aish!" Minho grumbled, licking the burn on his mouth. "Why did I even follow you here only to be abused like this?"

Jinki-hyung grinned at him innocently. "That's what younger brothers do to older ones. Follow and be abused...sometimes. Deal with it."

Then, Jinki started to whisper-sing slowly. " _Juliette, oh! Yeonghoneul bachilkkeyo...Juliette, oh! Jaebal nal bada jwoyo.._."

Minho inhaled deeply and sat back, letting Jinki-hyung's voice seep into the chaos of his thoughts. 

_Juliette, oh! Dalkomhi jeom deo dalkomhage...soksagyeo naui serenade..._

The winter in Minho's heart was bitterly cold but Jinki- _hyung_ 's voice was like hot chocolate he badly needed. He closed his eyes and tried to relax. Jinki- _hyung_ 's voice, warmer than the mug in his hands—hearing it again on a cold night like this was a balm to the soul even if it could not drown out every other voice inside his head.

_I will understand. Make it easier._

_It must have been so bad for you._

_We need you to go further._  

_I'm sorry I wasn't there._

Minho stood abruptly. "I...I should go in now," he said, leaving his older friend behind without explanation.

He was mistaken. 

Even Jinki- _hyung_ was not enough. 

 

 

 

 


	6. A History of Nonbinary Codes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 01001011 01101001 01101101 00100000 01001011 01101001 01100010 01110101 01101101 00100000 01110111 01100001 01110011 00100000 01101001 01101110 00100000 01001001 01101110 01110100 01100101 01101100 01101100 01101001 01100111 01100101 01101110 01100011 01100101 00101110 00100000

 

 

 

 

January of 2033 soon became February. And even February lasted long enough to bleed into March, so on and so forth. However by the end of May, when the cherry blossoms of Spring began to disappear into the heat of Korean summer, there was still no concrete plan to get inside—and out—of the north without a hitch.

Minho had wanted to return to Melbourne immediately after being briefed of the situation with Jonghyun’s sudden reappearance, if only to see his wife and children. To be fair, she wanted to share custody over his daughter Min Hee and his son. She knew he loved his children more than life itself and told him she would never deprive him of their love and affection. She would never deprive them of a father, either.

He called her up one time and heard a crashing sound before her sleep-filled voice answered the phone. Minho had smiled inwardly. She must have toppled something from the bedside table again while fumbling for her hand phone.

“Hey, are you all right?” he asked, his eyes catching the time on his watch.

“Minho-yah? My God, do you have any idea what time it is? Should I be the one asking if you’re all right?”

Minho groaned. He’d forgotten how early his wife slept on weekdays. It was almost eleven in the evening on his watch.

“I’m sorry for waking you up. I forgot about the time,” he started to say but halted as a train arrived before him.

“Where on earth are you?” she asked. “What’s that noise? Are you on the road?”

Minho sighed and stepped into the train, finding himself a vacant seat. He did not tell anyone, not even his wife that he was back in Korea. If she knew, she would never stop encouraging him to settle here permanently. She’d told him she didn’t care if he went back to being a kpop idol, an actor, a soldier, or whatever he wanted to do. She just wanted them all back in Korea, where they should be, not in a white man’s country.

“Sort of. I’m on a train,” he replied vaguely. “I just called…well. I just wanted to know how the kids are doing. Is Min Hee doing fine in school? Are those other kids bothering her again? And my baby boy? Is he eating well? He doesn’t have any problems breathing or anything, like the last time?”

“Min Hee’s a lot like you, you know. She thrives in adversity,” his wife said, chuckling softly. “She really does well in school. Our boy is doing fine, too. None of those scares we had before. He’s eating a lot, still hates carrots, though. He’s sleeping beside me so I can’t talk loud.”

Minho wanted to ask if they ask about him, if they look for him, or if they cry out for him. Min Hee had thrown a terrible tantrum at the airport once when he had to leave Melbourne for the World Cup games in London to support the Korean and Australian teams. She refused to let go of his pants and clawed at her mother to keep her and Minho from separating. His son had seemed like he was turning blue, causing Minho to delay leaving for a day.

He couldn’t speak the words loud or he’d burst into tears in public.

Next to his mother, however, his wife was the only other woman who knew him best. In a moment, he heard someone breathing into his ear through his phone. His wife must have brought the phone to his son’s face.

Okay, great. He didn’t have to talk. He cried anyway. Minho struggled to contain his sobs until he heard his wife’s voice again. “Minho-yah?”

“Y-Yes?” he croaked.

His wife said nothing. He wondered if she was crying, too.

The train stopped and the doors opened. It was his station.

Minho cleared his throat. “I have to go,” he said quickly, rushing towards the exit.

“Okay. Take care of yourself, Minho-yah,” she said gently.

Minho ended the call, looked around and realized he couldn’t remember what he was doing outside at this hour.

 

* * *

 

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Minho asked Jinki as they stared up at the glass-and-stone edifice of a ten-storey building in Gangnam-do.

Jinki nodded and pointed to a large sign stuck to the top of the building.

SM Entertainment.

It was not the old building or its old location. The war unfortunately burned the former agency to ashes including the entire block. It wasn’t only their agency that suffered, though. Other agencies didn’t survive the onslaught and to this day, only a few were able to recover enough to restart the Korean entertainment industry.

“Will they even let us in?” Minho asked as they walked up the steps leading to the entrance where two large men in uniform stood guard. CCTV cameras dotted the perimeter and one was trained right at the door.

“I called ahead and spoke to Kibum-sshi’s secretary. He’s expecting us,” replied Jinki, handing one of the guards a business card. The man spoke softly to his headset and after a few seconds, stepped back to open the door, letting Minho and Jinki in.

A woman in business attire approached them with a warm smile. “Good morning, Lee Jinki-sshi, Choi Minho-sshi! Welcome back to SM Entertainment! I’m Lee Bong Seong, Kim-sajang’s personal aide and secretary. He is currently in Studio A overseeing a project. Please, follow me.”

They walked behind the woman and boarded a glass-walled elevator that overlooked an indoor garden, a tall fountain, and a lobby that could rival a five-star hotel’s.

“Opulent, right?” Secretary Lee suddenly said. Minho and Jinki turned to see her grinning.

“I can see the shocked look on your faces as soon as you entered the building,” she told them. “Don’t worry, it is an expected reaction. Kim-sajang does like to shock people from time to time.” When they said nothing, she continued in an apologetic tone. “My apologies. I shouldn’t have been too free with my words. I was under the impression you were his three closest friends, ones he always referred to as brothers.”

“Er, no, that’s fine, really,” Jinki quickly said, nudging Minho. Minho nodded.

“You seem very close to Kibum-ah,” remarked Minho. “How long have you worked for him?”

Secretary Lee hesitated for a beat before giving them a vague answer. “A long time.”

Before Minho could ask more, the elevator doors opened and they were led down a hallway towards a set of doors at the end.

“We’re at Studio A, the largest inside the main building. It’s an amphitheatre type of space, designed for stage and dress rehearsals. Trainees and debuted artists use this studio. Kim-sajang is currently supervising a trainee group about to debut in two weeks.”

Secretary Lee knocked and the door was opened by a member of the staff. She led the two men to their seats where they were afforded a view of the stage, the performers and staff on it, but Kim Kibum was nowhere in sight.

Minho and JInki watched the rehearsal and even bopped their head to the music. Secretary Lee suddenly stood, phone by her ear.

“Yes, Kim-sajang. Yes, I’ll be there shortly.” She ended the call and said to them, “Kim-sajang needs me by the stage. If you need anything, just call any of the staff. You’ll be informed when the rehearsal is over.”

They then watched her as she made her way down the steps leading to the stage. She waved to the performers and they all greeted her enthusiastically. One of the performers jumped and hugged her.

“Times have changed, huh?” Jinki said, nodding towards the chaos onstage. “Back in our day, even the secretaries were scary. You wouldn’t even dare look them in the eye, let alone hug them.”

Minho nodded but something caught his eye. When realization sank in, Minho burst out laughing, causing the entire studio to go silent as all eyes went up to where he and Jinki were seated.

“Er, Minho-sshi, you’re embarrassing the both of us! I think you should stop—“ Jinki hissed, trying to pull Minho back to his seat when Minho stood.

“Yah! Kibum-ah!” Minho yelled, his baritone voice carrying over the rows. “What the fuck?!”

“Yah! Minho-yah! You crazy idiot! Come down here!”

Minho grabbed Jinki and the two half-ran, half-stumbled over carpeting and props, finally reaching the stage where Kim Kibum stood waiting for them, arms wide open.

Minho embraced Kibum in a tight bearhug, drawing applause from staff and the performers.

“I’m not going to hug Jinki-hyung as tight. I always eat at his restaurant anyway,” Kibum declared, stepping away from Minho.

“Why didn’t you tell me they were here already?” Kibum asked Secretary Lee. The woman shook her head. “That was what I was trying to tell you but you kept asking me about other things, Kim-sajangnim.”

Minho looked Kibum over. “For a moment there I thought you were one of these boys here!”

Kim Kibum was dressed in a color ensemble that defied imagination, topped with a sparkly mustard yellow coat that wouldn’t have escaped even a blind man’s notice. Minho pointed to the strange outfit with a grimace.

“Yah!” Kibum snapped. “You would’ve worn something like this, too, in the past!”

“Well, I don’t half-own a company,” Minho spat back. “Seriously, this is work attire?”

Kibum rolled his eyes and waved a hand towards Secretary Lee. “Bong Seong-sshi, is this really too much?”

His secretary pursed her lips. “I did advise you, Kim-sajangnim, to take the blue one instead of the yellow one.”

Kibum scoffed. “Wow. Even my secretary has an adverse opinion. Fine! I’m going to get out of this thing. It’s not even Gucci anyway.” He promptly removed the yellow coat and handed it to Secretary Lee. Turning to the stage, he made the introductions between his SHINee members and the young group. Their hoobaes bowed and shook their hands. Afterwards, Kibum led Minho and Jinki out of the studio, leaving the rehearsals to the designated PD.

“They’re the first new group we’re going to have debut in a long while,” Kibum told them. “It was tough but maybe tougher for them. Most of them only have this to do after the war.” Several employees bowed as they passed by. They made several turns before arriving at a wider corridor. The walls on both sides were covered with screens featuring all the past SM artists. Kibum excitedly led them to a panel that contained alternating images of SHINee, from their debut to their last get-together.

“We didn’t really change all that much, did we?” Kibum remarked, glancing between his friends and the wall. “At least on the outside.”

Jinki chuckled. “I don’t think so. I know I’ve gained a few pounds…”

“An occupational hazard in your case,” quipped Kibum, raising his brows at Minho. “This guy here, though…you look like you’ve been doing well all the way in Australia.”

Minho shrugged but did not share more. Kibum shrugged back and began walking towards the elevators. He pressed the button for the third floor; they were on the eighth floor. Once on the third floor, they followed Kibum to an area almost devoid of people. A man and two women in business suits bowed to them as they passed several cubicles.

“Welcome to my office,” Kibum announced, entering a large room built much like an executive’s office but with Kim Kibum’s personality: functional opulence.

“I thought your office would be way upstairs,” Jinki remarked. Minho walked around, his eyes taking in the interior, landing on a wooden shelf filled with mementos of SHINee’s past.

“After what happened to the old building, I didn’t want to take five minutes to get to safety if my office was way up there and the building was burning,” replied Kibum. “Here, it’d only take a minute to run out. Have a seat, you two. Make yourselves comfortable.”

Minho and Jinki found their places among Kibum’s pure white leather sofas while Kibum busied himself somewhere inside the spacious office.

“My restaurant could fit in here,” Jinki whispered to Minho. “I haven’t been here before either. I have to say, I’m impressed.”

“I wonder how much it took to rebuild the company,” said Minho. “It went really bad for Lee Soo Man-seongsangnim and the others, if you remember.” Jinki nodded.

Kibum arrived suddenly with a tray laden with cold tea and thick sandwiches. Minho’s eyes widened. “What? You have a kitchen here somewhere?”

Kibum laughed and served them plates for the sandwiches while Jinki poured tea into three glasses. “I always need to be prepared for any eventuality, friends. I know you came here to discuss something very serious with me but I hope we can delay that for a few minutes? Let’s just talk…like old times.”

“By old times you mean Jinki-hyung and I will talk while you take selcas and go on SNS in a corner,” Minho said pointedly. Kibum sneered. “Yah! I wasn’t like that all the time!”

“You were.”

“I wasn’t!”

“You really were! You even sleep with your camera on!”

“That’s not true! And that was for the fans’ benefit!”

“I’m actually surprised I don’t see more of your pictures around…”

“Choi Minho-yah! Bite your tongue! You couldn’t even contribute because you won’t get an SNS account!” Kibum snapped, reverting to his Daegu accent.

“Kim Kibum-ah! What’s the point? Your efforts were enough!” Minho snapped back in a mocking imitation of Kibum’s dialect.

While the two bickered, Jinki took a bite of the sandwich and sighed, muttering, “Well, this _is_ just like old times. _Exactly_ like old times.”

 

* * *

 

Secretary Lee came back much later to clear their used plates and the empty glasses. Kibum signed some letters and dictated a short email to her, all of which she took with her when she left the office. Once the three men were alone again, Kibum asked, “So. What’s up, Jinki-hyung?”

Jinki, who had been carrying a briefcase, opened it and took out a manila envelope. He handed it to Kibum who took out the contents—documents and photographs, copies of the same ones Minho also saw at Jung Min Seo’s house. He watched Kibum’s stoic expression as he read through the documents and the slight raising of his right eyebrow at the pictures.

He looked up at Jinki and Minho questioningly. “So Jonghyun-sshi’s been found? And it’s all the way up north? Like, _really_ way up there?” At Jinki’s nod, Kibum murmured, “Damn.”

They gave Kibum a few moments to process the information. Then Minho said, “I know you could help us.”

Kibum frowned slightly. “Is that why you’re here? For my help? And not because you just wanted to visit an old friend you haven’t seen for years?” He looked at Minho pointedly. Minho sighed and said with regret, “I wish it was for that reason only, Kibum-ah. But it wasn’t also my choice to be here.” He paused for a beat. “It’s Jonghyun-sshi, Kibum-ah. That’s why they called Jinki-hyung and myself. They believe we knew him best…”

“Well, we _do_ ,” Kibum said in a firm voice. “But if he’s in the north, and this is something of a political issue, I don’t have any clout in government…” Kibum shifted in his seat.

Minho locked eyes with Kibum. His friend averted his gaze. “You don’t. But you have what even the government doesn’t…and that’s information.”

 

* * *

 

_28 October 2025, 1000 Hours KST_

 

_Minho squinted through the dust as he limped his way towards the Ministry of National Defense’s headquarters. Early autumn winds had been blowing across South Korea, bringing with them waves of cement dust from the ravages of war and ongoing reconstruction of roadways and government buildings. Half of the Ministry had been blown away by a bomb. The noise and dusty wind merged to start giving Minho a throbbing headache._

_The solid plaster cast on his right leg was not helping._

_Younger men in uniform saluted and eagerly offered to help him as he passed, their eyes going to the badge on his own uniform, the reward for service rendered to the country. A few days after he crossed back from the DMZ to Seoul, he was promoted to the rank of Sergeant,_ byeongjang, _a large leap from the_ ilbyeong _rank he entered Pyeongyang with. That was his reward along with the official discharge orders he was to receive today. But the others did not know that._

_He politely refused their assistance and continued on his way, crutch and all, up the steps leading into the lobby. He looked about him and noticed that repair activities were everywhere. He carefully ducked under tarpaulins and fine nets catching falling debris and made his way through a maze of soldiers, repairmen, machinery, and warning signs towards the reception desk. A harried-looking woman sat behind, talking to a distraught-looking older female._

_Minho waited until the desk officer was available and approached._

_“Good morning. I’m Sergeant Choi Minho from the 31 st Battalion…”_

_The woman did not greet him and barely afforded him a glance but kept her eyes on a laptop instead. She typed something and said curtly, “Third floor, east wing. Room 205. Major General Jang.”_

_He made his way to the elevators but was disappointed to see they were not in service. He breathed in and gritted his teeth as he made his way up the service stairs, his document bag wedged under his left armpit while his right arm pulled the rest of his body upward with the help of a crutch. He was sweating when he found himself on a floor teeming with people. For a moment, he was confused, the waning effect of his painkillers, the heat, and the dusty gloom within the building all combining to make him feel fatigued. He was still only on the second floor, he thought unhappily._

_Deciding to rest for a bit, Minho walked forward slowly towards a relatively unpopulated corridor. He found an empty bench wedged against the wall and sat down, carefully extending his right knee in relief. As he massaged his thigh, he soon heard voices coming in from behind him. He turned his head slightly and realized he was seated against the wall of an office, a wall that had been battered with bullet holes large enough to let sound out._

Sir, in America…West Point…information feed, yes…in code, of course…Kim Kibum…

_Minho’s ears perked up at the last part._

…naval forces in the East Sea…contacts in Seoul…Daegu...Ulsan…Gangwon…Gwangju…Busan…two communications center in Osaka…Tokyo…attack plans from Beijing messaged in code to Kim Kibum…Los Angeles and re-coded to the American battleship USS Franklin stationed in Manila…

_His hand phone rang. Minho took it out and saw a message from his mother reminding him to take his medications on time. He pocketed the phone as the door to the office opened and two older men in uniform walked out. Minho stood slowly and only then saw the sign plastered above the door._

**Intelligence Unit.**

_When Minho’s leg felt better, he started for the stairs again. More than the heaviness of the cast or the mild pain in his leg, his thoughts were now swimming with what he overheard. How many Kim Kibum’s did he know lived in Los Angeles during the war?_

_He recalled a pivotal point in the war, when the USS Franklin sailed from Manila and headed straight for the Yellow Sea, ending the two-month naval siege of Taean-gun in South Chungcheong-do. The Japanese navy was split in the Yellow Sea, the Sea of Japan, and the South China Sea, along with the South Korean naval forces. Incheon and Gangwon-do were both besieged in the north with North Korean forces pushing through the DMZ while the Chinese navy had begun aggressive attacks on the seaside provinces of South Korea, using Taean-gun as an entry point into the mainland. The arrival of American support through the USS Franklin and the US naval forces stationed in Guam prevented that._

_Minho finally reached the third floor, much more populated than the second, and proceeded to search for the room where he was going to receive his official discharge orders. His parents had wanted to come with him but his father was ill and Minho did not feel this was an important event anyway. He became a soldier, did his job and managed to survive with a wounded leg. He just wanted out of it as soon as possible._

_His document bag slipped from his clutch. Hissing out a curse, Minho contorted himself to pick the blasted thing up. But the cast reaching up to his knee, the crutch, and the pain were keeping him almost immobile. He was about to give up and just ask anyone to help him until he saw someone bend down and reach for the bag. When he looked up, he found a face he didn’t expect to see in the Ministry of National Defense of all places._

_“Kibum-ah?” he asked._

_“Minho-yah.” Kibum grabbed and embraced him then, crutch and all._

_Minho laughed in disbelief. “Is it really you?” He lifted his free hand to cup Kibum’s face. Kibum did the same to him. “Ha! It’s really you, Kibum-ah!”_

_They embraced each other again, tighter. When they broke apart, Kibum had tears in his eyes._

_“Yah! Why are you crying now?!” Minho scolded, putting an arm around Kibum. “You’re not allowed to cry here!”_

_“Yah! I’ll cry whenever and wherever I want!” Kibum said petulantly, wiping his eyes with his fingers. “I never thought I’d see you again, you know? I thought you were…”_

_“Dead?” Minho scoffed. “I ran for miles to keep myself alive.”_

_Kibum gave a smile that did not reach his eyes. “All that running after balls must’ve paid off, then.”_

_“And the wide blocking changes,” added Minho. “What are you doing here, though? You’re here with someone? A relative?”_

_Kibum shook his head. “What about you? Why are you alone?”_

_Minho reached out for the bag and Kibum surrendered it to him. “I’m here for my discharge orders. Abeoji is not feeling too well and I don’t think it’s necessary for them to be here.” He pointed to his leg cast. “Can’t really continue serving the military in this state. And I’m not a soldier, really. I might as well get this over and done with.”_

_“Hey, mind if I come with you?” Kibum asked worriedly, his eyes roaming Minho's sweaty face. “I mean, you look like you’re about to pass out…”_

_Minho brushed his statement off. “I’m a bit fine now, Kibum-ah. I’m not_ that _fine but I think I can manage…”_

_“Yah! Don’t be an idiot!” Kibum scolded, grabbing Minho’s left arm and placing it on his shoulder. “Come on. I’m not leaving you for a while. Where do you exactly get your discharge orders?”_

_Minho smiled and motioned forward. “Room 205, Kibum-ah. I think it's down this way. Are you buying me lunch? You should buy this wounded soldier lunch, at least. I did get this for you and the country, you know.”_

_Kibum patted his back as they slowly walked together down the corridor. “I know. I’d buy you anything you want at this point, Minho-yah. But let’s get those official orders first, yes?”_

_Minho nodded and sighed with relief._

_Only then he realized he had never been that happy to see a SHINee member since the war started._

_Only then he felt his own tears threaten to fall._

 

* * *

 

Kibum sat back in his seat, calm as ever, stoic-faced, not giving anything away while Minho told Jinki his theories about his involvement in the war.

When Minho was done and Jinki looked like he was just told that fairies do exist, Kibum said, “I’m not going to confirm if all of that is true but I can tell you that I did have something to do with the siege…and that’s it.”

Minho ran a hand down his face in frustration. “Kibum-ah, I’ve asked around before I left Korea. And fellow soldiers I’ve known who were part of the Intelligence Unit and the DSC knew your name, knew who you were. Even the Major General has dropped your name a few times. I should’ve realized then it was really you they were talking about.”

Jinki, who had been quiet the entire time, sat up straighter, eyes narrowed on Kibum. “While I was in Pyeongyang, we received intel about someone or something called _Zero-One-Zero_ , a code transfer vehicle who fielded intelligence between us and our allies. Don’t tell me that was you all along?”

When Kibum did not immediately answer, Minho jumped out of his seat and confidently pointed a finger at him. “See? That’s what he looks like when Kibum-ah is keeping something to himself! _Aigoo_! You’ve been found out, Kibum-ah!”

Kibum rolled his eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. “I’m still not going to tell you anything about, well, anything…specific. For security purposes.” He glanced at Jonghyun’s picture and frowned. “Fine. I can tell you this at least. I did field intel between groups of allies but I was not able to penetrate into Pyeongyang. After China dropped that bomb in Seoul in 2023, the north literally closed off all communications systems between them and the world, except maybe with their own allies like China and Russia. I couldn’t have gotten in, not with my resources at the time. I could speak and read English, Korean, and Japanese…and a smattering of Chinese. That was what made me a perfect transcoder. Basically, my job was to mess up the original code and transfer it to whoever needed the intel. So I got hold of the Beijing Papers through, you wouldn’t believe this, a Chinese Shawol working for the Beijing government.”

“And that was how you got the Americans to help end the siege in Taean-gun,” Jinki muttered, nodding to himself.

“I stayed in America for security reasons, for my family’s sake,” Kibum explained. “The day Minho-yah and I met at the Ministry, I was there to end my affiliation with the intelligence unit, the same way as getting a discharge order like Minho-yah did. I wasn’t a soldier and I’ve served the only way I knew best how to. I was there to tell them to stop using me and my connections anymore. I wanted to live my life in peace and to keep those things I did as secret. To keep my sources safe, too.”

Minho thought about everything Kibum said. He wasn’t a soldier, he wasn’t officially in the roster of the military. Should important information leak out, there will be no Kim Kibum on paper. Kim Kibum does not exist. But that would have also enabled the government to drop Kim Kibum like a hot potato should he get found out on his own. They would never take responsibility for him.

The familiar surge of anger and fear he felt when he was in the north rose in Minho’s gut but he tamped it down immediately. 

“True, I dealt with information but I still don’t know everything,” Kibum continued. “I’m just the collector, if you will. I don’t have direct contacts in the north…right now, who does but you, Jinki-hyung? But even you cannot use those connections straightforwardly. You can chitchat with Pyeongyang’s officials but like they always do, they’d just run circles around you and waste your time.”

Kibum paused for a long time, staring at Jonghyun’s face. Then, he looked up at Jinki and the two shared a long pointed look. Minho watched the exchange with blatant interest.

“What? What’s with the look?” he asked the two.

Jinki shook his head, a confused look on his face. “I don’t know either.”

“Gangwon-do was one of the places I sought out for sources, given its proximity to North Korea,” Kibum started. “I didn’t get much detailed intel but just enough to keep the eastern borders unbreached with the help of American and Japanese forces. At that time, a lot of defectors from the north came through the province. One of my sources from Gangwon-do was their handler during the war and even in the years after. He’s still there, actually. I invited him back to SM and he has yet to answer—“

“He…your source used to be an idol?!” Minho asked loudly, eyes wide.

“He might know more than I do, actually, when it comes to things Pyeongyang doesn’t share with Seoul,” Kibum said, more to Jinki’s benefit. “You know, the people’s stories. Stories of people he helped build a new life south of the DMZ.”

“Who, then?” asked Jinki. Minho ran a list of names and faces of everyone he remembered from SM. He couldn’t pinpoint anyone. When Kibum told them, he was flabbergasted and well and truly shocked.

Kibum crossed his legs and replied, “Kim Heechul- _sunbaenim_. He’s my source from Gangwon-do.”


	7. The Biggest Hit On This Stage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some memories can be cloying...

The preparations before meeting with Kim Heechul- _sunbaenim_ was almost as complicated as the ones they undertook before meeting with Kim Kibum inside the new SM Entertainment building in Gangnam.

They discovered that after the war, entering and leaving Gangwon province took too much paperwork and appearances in offices that did not seem to have any real purpose at all. But Minho knew about paranoia and fear all too well and it was what Gangwon's defense mechanism was reduced to after its northern borders became battlefields between the armies of the north and the south. As in Seoul, thousands of families were displaced and millions of innocent lives were lost. The people of Gangwon became more wary of strangers, even if those strangers were fellow South Koreans.

It was quite a mystery to Minho how Heechul-sunbaenim and his family survived inside the war-torn province through all that shit. The province was the coldest in the country and deemed almost uninhabitable after getting ravaged during the war.

"I came here maybe four or five times," Kibum said to them. "Mostly to see if he's willing to work with the company again. Of course he said no." He, Minho, and Jinki had been travelling eastward in a plush van for the last several hours, driven by Kibum's chaffeur. Another car trailed after them containing former military men in plainclothes: bodyguards. Minho had scoffed at the excess and riled Kibum enough to make him doubt the need to bring those men but Secretary Lee had been adamant.

"That's interesting," Jinki remarked upon hearing Heechul had no desire to re-enter the entertainment industry. "You sure it was Heechul-sunbaenim you were talking to?"

Kibum nodded. "I couldn't believe it myself so I kept coming back. He won't budge. The flower has literally taken over the boy. You'll see when we get there."

They stopped over at a roadside restaurant for lunch and after another hour of travelling, almost reaching the north border, they arrived in front of a quaint bungalow-type of house with a sloping roof, shadowed by a mountain range to the north, and surrounded by lush gardens and fields. As they got out of the van, Minho saw outbuildings that looked like greenhouses.

An elderly man came out of the house to meet them. The three bowed in greeting. Then, he came forward to shake Kibum's hand.

"Ahjussi, thank you for meeting us," Kibum said politely. "These are my friends, Lee Jinki-sshi and Choi Minho-sshi. They used to be in the same agency as Heechul-sunbaenim and myself."

The old man grinned up at Minho and Jinki, nodding. "Yes, I can see that. You all look very well-put together, eh? Come follow me. He is currently in the jasmine house."

They all followed after the old man save for the bodyguards who stayed around the perimeter. Passing several gardens and greenhouses with labels such as SUNFLOWER, TOMATO, GARLIC, LETTUCE, ONION, CUCUMBER, the group came to a stop in front of a greenhouse labelled JASMINE. The moment the old man opened the door, the smell of jasmine flowed out.

"The smell can become cloying so I suggest you wear these masks," the old man said, handing each of them a colorful mask. Kibum received a cat mask, Jinki a bunny mask, and Minho a deer mask. Jinki chuckled and donned his mask, saying, "Let me guess: Heechul-sunbaenim's orders?"

The old man laughed and motioned them in. off to the side of rows upon rows of jasmine shrubbery, there stood Kim Heechul dressed in full gardening wear: a wide-brimmed straw hat, long sleeved shirt, jeans, rubber boots, an apron, and cotton gloves. He was bent over several pots with different labels in a language none of his visitors understood. When he looked up and saw them, Heechul barked out a laugh and met them halfway, embracing each of his hoobaes.

"Yah! You haven't changed a bit since I last saw you, Minho-yah!" he exclaimed, pinching Minho's cheeks with his gloved fingers. "Can those eyes get any bigger?"

Minho laughed and grabbed the straw hat. "There's not much sun in here, you don't need this."

Heechul shrugged. "I'm an old farmer now. It completes the look," he said, taking the hat from Minho but laying it down on one of the wooden tables nearby. He led them to where he had been standing earlier and pointed to the pots. "I'm currently studying how to grow a jasmine species that could only be found in warmer climates. I'm in a bit of a funk right now but I think I'm getting closer to my goal."

He grabbed a pair of gardening scissors and walked towards one of the shrubs which was now overgrown with the white flowers.

"You smell that?" he asked them. The three nodded, the lower half of their faces hidden by their masks. "Aigoo! You look so cute in those things!" he teased, playfully punching Kibum's arm then heading towards another shrub. Kibum rolled his eyes, getting caught in the act by Jinki. Minho snorted.

"See here, this is a new breed I've been growing for the past year," Heechul continued, using the shears to cut off three flowering branches and handing one each to his hoobaes. "I've been featured in an agriculture and biology magazine in London and Paris, you should know. And a laboratory in Grasse has been funding my research project. Those things in your hands cost a fortune. And the smell takes a long time to fade."

As they followed Heechul around his jasmine garden-slash-research lab, Minho's eye caught shadows moving outside the walls of the building. He didn't notice he had stopped walking when Heechul said, "Don't worry about them. They're refugees from the north. They are the ones who remained and are now helping me out here. They're safe."

 _You're safe_ , Minho assumed Heechul was telling them.

"I think I've bored you enough with my talk of flowers, if the glassy eyes Minho is sporting at the moment are honest," he said with a naughty grin, leading them back to where they started. He looked at Kibum. "Are you going to make me come back to the company again, Kibum-ah? And you've brought the army with you, too, no pun intended."

"Nah, not this time, Heechul-sunbaenim," Kibum said, nudging Jinki. "I'll let the _army_ do the talking."

Heechul frowned, his previous joking countenance gone, and crossed his arms. The way he stiffened already told Minho that Gangwon-do has still not recovered from the war, something he could empathize with. But they needed whatever information that Heechul has...fast. "Are you still both in the military?" Heechul asked them. "Because if it's about those restrictions again..."

Jinki waved a hand. "No, no! We're not here about that. And we don't really work for the military...not on record, anyway." He took out his handphone, pressed a few buttons, and handed it to Heechul for him to watch something.

After several minutes, Heechul handed the phone back to Jinki and sighed wearily.

"So, you've found Jonghyun-ah," he said, his former rigid stance gentling. "I've always wondered what happened to him after the war. About all of you, really. I should've made more effort to ask around..."

Minho shook his head and patted Heechul's shoulder. "You had important work to do here, Heechul-sunbaenim. We all had work to do."

Heechul nodded and looked up at Kibum. "You told them I might be able to help them find Jonghyun-ah?"

Kibum shrugged. "Well, you know more than I do when it comes to the north, Heechul-sunbaenim. I thought you might be able to point them where to go and look."

Heechul narrowed his eyes, looking confused. "That's funny. You came all the way here for information on the north when you could've saved yourselves the long travel if you just... But never mind. Since you're here, I'll do my best."

Minho raised his brows in consternation. "You mean to say we could've just stayed in Seoul?"

"I can give you a background on what you're heading into if I'm correct in my assumption that you're going somewhere you shouldn't be going," Heechul said enigmatically. "I can understand Minho-yah looking like he's been cheated on during a game but Jinki-yah and Kibum-ah? Where have you been all this time, eh? So, he's northwest of Pyeongyang, right?"

He rolled his eyes up and stayed silent for several moments before telling them, "I know my memory serves me right. I've recorded all the names and provinces they came out of...I have a very good memory and those records are already with the United Nations-HCR in Seoul. You could've just gone there, too, you know, Jinki-yah."

Minho and Kibum glared at Jinki who could only sigh remorsefully.

"There were a few families who came from that general region but if we're going to narrow it down to where the last satellite trace of Jonghyun-ah was...there's only two people from there who remained in Seoul. The others either went to other provinces or out of the country." He fixed his eyes on Jinki. "I'm surprised you don't know when you've worked for the UN for quite some time. You know, asked help from connections? Then again, maybe they didn't want you to know. People from the north can be very secretive. It's in their nature, I guess. Indoctrination, or whatever."

Heechul turned to walk towards the exit, bidding the three to follow.

"Maybe we should talk this over snacks. I'm kind of hungry. Stories from the north can get very heavy and stressful. Where was I? Oh! How long ago since you last saw Taemin-ah?"

The three halted at the sudden random question. Heechul, sensitive to the tension, stared at them questioningly.

"Wow. They really don't talk," he said in an awe-filled tone. "So maybe they asked Taemin-ah not to tell any of you. They've been working for him since he got back from Japan. The two people I told you about. A father and a daughter. From northwest of Pyeongyang. If you want specific help, you should go ask them. If you've been to see Taemin at his house, you'd have met them already. They're the ones taking care of him since he can't anymore. The father does the heavy stuff and the daughter is the one caring for Taemin's needs— Minho-yah, are you all right? You don't look so good. Is it the smell..."

"No," was all Minho managed to say before ripping his mask off and running out of the greenhouse as if the demons of hell were after him.

Heechul looked at the other two who both had worried looks on their faces.

"What the heck is wrong with him?"

 

* * *

 

_29 May 2026, 0800 JST_

_Hiroshima, Japan_

 

_Lee Jinki looked down at the sea of faces from where he was sat on a raised platform a few meters above a crowd of government and military officials, foreign dignitaries, celebrities, and ordinary people, all mixed together as one borderless community._

_It took years of blood, sweat, and tears for this day to come. It may not have taken as long as the wars the 20th century was famous for but a year of killing and destruction in a technologically sophisticated world was tantamount to ten years of war._

_Jinki's ears rang with Jung Min Seo's strong voice as it blared out of giant speakers scattered all over the field, the same area where an American plane dropped the first ever armed nuclear warhead in the world in 1945. She has been talking for the better part of an hour about war and peace, about learning from our mistakes and moving forward._

_She was right...but underneath all that right was a lot of wrong, too. He listened with a bored expression while beautiful poetry of her words effectively covered up the bullshit they waded through to get here. He looked again at the faces in the crowd._

_For them, ignorance is bliss._

_Movement beside him caught his attention. Jonghyun has been a bit antsy for the last few days since coming to Japan. He was still undergoing psychiatric treatment and counselling but since leaving the hellhole he was imprisoned in in_ _China_ _, Jonghyun had become the face of_ _South Korea_ _'s victory in the war. He wasn't supposed to be here but there was no other way any of them could leave their maknae behind._

_"Hey, you're all right there?" Jinki asked Jonghyun. Jonghyun nodded, a worried frown on his face. "Keep frowning like that and they'll think you're disagreeing with the head of the Committee on Peace and Reunification."_

_Jonghyun sighed. "I'm just worried about Taemin-ah. He was in so much pain last night at the hotel and I didn't want to leave him—"_

_"I'm really sorry you have to do this," Jinki said regretfully. "If it were up to me, you wouldn't even be here...you and Taemin-ah..."_

_"You couldn't have done anything even if you tried," scoffed Jonghyun. "Taemin-ah wanted to come, said a long speech about visiting the place where they took him to in_ _Yokohama_ _. He was a bit mean to Hye In-sshi back in the hotel. Maybe I should leave early—"_

_Jinki felt someone tap him on the shoulder and saw Jung Min Seo looking at him pointedly. He remembered his role and stood to assist in the final step of the peace process. Taking a giant roll of paper from one of the junior staff, he laid it out on a large desk at the front of the platform. With him were Jung Min Seo, the UN Secretary General, the Japanese Prime Minister, the President of the_ _United States of America_ _, the Australian Prime Minister, the Chinese Premier, and the president of the Presidium of North Korea's government._

_All the national leaders of the group were handed special ink pens to sign on the piece of paper, already printed with the words Jung Min Seo recited earlier._

_A treaty and a promise not to bully each other anymore between the most powerful nations flanking the Pacific._

_He reckoned he should be proud. He was part of that treaty, had worked tirelessly in dangerous places and under life-threatening situations to make it possible, with some of his words finding themselves included in the beauty of that promise._

_But his mind now turned to things that treaties and promises between the powerful pay not much heed to._

_Words on paper could be abstract but his personal worries were tangible._

_Like his parents, who are finally safe and sound in_ _Seoul_ _after taking refuge with the parents and families of other SM artists in SM. Lee Soo Man-seongsangnim had been generous with them, doing much for the war effort, enough to land himself in financial trouble._

_Jinki's thoughts, too, went to his other family, his brothers._

_Kibum now lived in_ _California_ _with his parents and some relatives from Daegu. They kept in touch from time-to-time but because of different time zones, frequent communication was not easy._

_He knew from Kibum that_ _Minho_ _had gotten himself married to a literature professor and is now living in_ _Australia_ _. He'd gotten the news while he was making preparations for a trip to Pyeongyang with Jung Min Seo and a retinue of UN officials._

_At that same time, the youngest of his brothers was in_ _Beijing_ _with another group of UN officials, brokering for the release of Jonghyun from a prisoner-of-war detention center. Jinki recalled the official report from one of his colleagues and the accompanying video documentation of the meeting._

_The image of Taemin in a wheelchair being rolled into a glass-encased room and the beaten-up appearance of Jonghyun made Jinki burst into tears that day in Jung Min Seo's house. Thinking about it now made him remember, too, everything else that happened. The pleasant things and those that he would regret to the end of his days._

_"Are we going to be here for much longer?" Jonghyun asked him immediately when Jinki returned to his seat._

_Jinki glanced at the programme of events he held with his hand then gave Jonghyun a reassuring smile._

_"We're going to sing your song in a while, Jonghyun-ah. It is really beautiful, you know. They say when we're in an ugly place, we should strive to find where beauty lies."_

_Jonghyun smiled wanly but his eyes were focused somewhere in the crowd. "Really? You think so? I'm amazed I was even able to think about music when I was, you know, in_ that _place."_

You were the only beautiful thing in that ugly place, Jonghyun-ah, _Jinki wanted to tell him. But he only managed to nod once and tapped Jonghyun's shoulder to remind him that the music was about to start._

_Jonghyun rose from his seat, taking a microphone blindly from a staff, his eyes still wandering the crowd, murmuring something._

_"Kim Jonghyun-sshi, are you ready?" Jung Min Seo asked from a few paces away._

_Jonghyun nodded and turned to Jinki, his face immediately recalling the kpop idol he used to be before the war._

I wish we're all together singing this, Jinki-hyung, _were the words Jinki heard him murmur a few seconds ago._

Me, too, Jonghyun-ah, _he wanted to say._

_"You're coming with me to see Taemin-ah after this, right?"_

_Jinki inhaled and turned to the cheering crowd with a smile he learned to show before and then hide after 2023._

_Jonghyun waved to their audience and nodded to Jinki._

I could do this for one last time, _Jinki thought with both relief and regret._

_So he waved to them, too, and opened his mouth to sing._


	8. 흩어진 모든 널 만날 때까지

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's go back to the time...

 

 

 

**_9 December 2016_ **

**_Yokohama, Japan_ **

 

_Someone tapped Jinki on his left shoulder, prompting him to look up from watching a live camera feed of the arena audience. Lee Taemin gave him an awkward smile, their maknae’s way of asking permission to settle beside him. Jinki nodded, turning his eyes back onto the monitor, which now showed a bird’s eye view of the stage. He felt Taemin stand closer._

_Taemin was always a bit nervous the few minutes before every performance, whether in his solo career or as part of SHINee. Usually, Taemin would start rambling on and on about the blocking, about what he should say during the ment portions of the show, how he can show a much improved version of their choreography. This time, Taemin was silent. Jinki shifted his eyes and despite the dim lighting backstage, he could see the younger man did not look anything close to nervous._

_Jinki would go out on a limb to describe Taemin’s expression as “terrified”._

_“During the rehearsal yesterday, I found a shallow dip at the front of stage left,” Taemin said, pointing to the area on the screen. “It’s barely noticeable if you’re wearing flats but not when you’re elevated.”_

_Jinki did not miss the glance Taemin threw at his right foot._

_“I tried bringing attention to it but I guess it fell on deaf ears,” Taemin continued, unaware of Jinki’s solemn gaze on his face. “It was still there this morning.”_

_“Do the others know?” he asked Taemin._

_Taemin nodded. “But they all knew about it only this morning, too, when I told them. I didn’t think it was that important for them to know yesterday. I thought I wouldn’t have to tell them…if the staff listened to me.”_

_Jinki could feel the frustration coming off of Taemin in waves. This was not good._

_The audience started cheering as the concert’s opening VCR began to play._

_He wrapped an arm around Taemin’s shoulders and squeezed them. “Hey! As long as we all know where it’s located, we’ll be fine!”_

_At that moment, the other three members approached. The backstage manager signalled for them to take their positions. Jinki motioned all his members to gather in a circle and held hands. He could hear the low tones of Kibum saying a prayer though he could not make out the exact words, surrounded as they were with an arena of screaming fans on top of blaring music. Taemin’s hand held his tighter._

_“Positions, boys! Music in 2 minutes! Microphones on in one minute!” a production assistant said in their IEMs._

_As the rest of the members walked to their places, Jinki held on to Minho. Minho looked back and asked, “What’s up?”_

_“You know about stage left? Taemin’s worried,” Jinki said, pulling Minho to their positions, which were luckily side-by-side._

_Minho nodded. “I know. I saw you talking. He’s worried about you injuring yourself again. Frankly speaking, so am I.”_

_He gently pushed Minho to his block, a portion of a tier that would later push them up to the stage. A member of the staff began checking their IEM packs and belts._

_“Better me than any of you,” Jinki told him, giving Minho’s hand one last squeeze. "By the way, happy birthday, Minho-yah."_

_“Better all of us than Taemin, actually,” Minho argued, grinning, as he squeezed Jinki's hand back, then let go. "And, thanks!"_

_“Microphone’s on!” someone spoke in their IEM. “No more talking!”_

_The music began to get louder, the pounding bass carrying through to his bones. He could not hear the fans but he could hear his members’ breathing. Taemin whispered “Stage Left!”, drowned out by the introductory measures of_ **Hitchhiking.**

_Soon after, the ground moved and Jinki was thrust into a pearl aqua green world._

 

 

 

* * *

 

They did not have to go to Taemin’s house after all.

Two days after their return from Gangwon-do, Jinki received a phone call from Taemin’s assistant that he would be coming to visit him at his restaurant instead. Jinki previously called to set up a meeting and the same assistant answered but told him Taemin was then currently indisposed. When Jinki was told Taemin was coming in for dinner, Jinki immediately instructed his staff to prepare to close the restaurant early. He didn’t want Taemin to become a public spectacle.

Of course, he also had to tell Minho and Kibum. Kibum was not as excited as he expected. The two saw each other from time-to-time when Kibum would visit Taemin in his house. Minho, on the other hand, seemed reticent, almost resistant to the idea of everyone meeting again.

“You know, you can always do the briefing yourself, hyung-ah,” Minho said, reverting to informal speak and addressing him in a more personal way than as an actual superior. Minho only ever did so with him when he was asking Jinki for a favour. “I don’t see the point of all of us ganging up on him about his own staff.”

“We’re not going to gang up on him,” Jinki reasoned, his eyes not leaving Minho’s face while the younger man stayed still as an Easter Island rock statue, a habit when Minho feels uncomfortable or afraid.

All these years Jinki had assumed the possibility that Minho did not want to have anything to do with Taemin after everything that happened. It was gut-wrenching to see it was true.

“We’ll tell him about Jonghyun-ah over the best dinner ensemble my staff could whip out, talk about our lives, and then maybe we’ll start asking the important questions over tea or coffee,” Jinki explained calmly.

He repeated the same words while they waited inside a private function room built within the restaurant. The restaurant staff had already prepared the table and the food but Tak Gu stayed behind to serve Jinki and his friends. Minho kept glancing at his watch.

“What time is Kibum-ah arriving?” he asked Jinki for the nth time.

“He called to say he will be late,” Jinki patiently replied also for the nth time. “Some financial trouble in the company he needs to discuss with the board of directors. But he promised he’ll be here.”

Someone knocked on the door and Tak Gu peeped in. “Sir, Lee Taemin-sshi has arrived.”

Jinki patted Minho’s arm and rose to his feet as the door opened wider to let Taemin in.

If it wasn’t for the electric wheelchair Taemin was strapped into, there was barely any difference between the boy he knew in 2008 to the man he was now.

Maybe a bit wan-looking but still the same beautiful and youthful face, which was now scrunched up in a toothy-grin as he opened his arms wide. Taemin’s straight bowl cut black hair bounced as he laughed out loud.

“Hyung-ah!” Taemin exclaimed, his assistant pushing the chair so he could be closer to Jinki. Jinki narrowed the distance and bent down to gently embrace Taemin.

“I promise I’m not going to break if you hug me a bit tighter than that, hyung-ah,” said Taemin. Jinki chuckled and tightened his arms around Taemin.

When Jinki stepped back, Taemin’s eyes naturally went to Minho, who stood stiffly behind Jinki, a deer caught in headlights. Jinki stepped sideways to allow the two their moment. Minho remained standing, frozen, his eyes locked onto the blanket covering Taemin’s legs.

It was Taemin who moved forward after pressing a button on his armrest.

“Minho-hyung,” Taemin said, holding out a hand. “It’s been a long time. How have you been? I’m glad to see you again. Really glad.”

Seeing Minho’s catatonic state, Jinki nudged Minho with his elbow, bringing Minho’s eyes to finally look at Taemin’s face. There was a second before Minho took and held Taemin’s hand. Taemin did not let go immediately. “Hello, Taemin-sshi,” Minho whispered. Jinki saw Taemin’s face fall slightly.

“Oh! You’re all here! Good!”

They all turned their heads to see Kibum hurrying in from the doorway. He gave Taemin a hug from the back. “Taeminnie! I see you’re using the blanket I gave you!”

Taemin laughed. “I should! You said it was expensive.”

Kibum scoffed. “It is. I designed it. Jinki-hyung, I forgot to eat lunch, I’m sorry, but I’m really hungry! Could we eat first and then talk later?”

Jinki nodded to Tak Gu at the door. He then turned to Minho and saw him frantically scrolling down his phone. As Tak Gu entered with a bowl of steaming seafood soup, Jinki said, “Minho, is there something wrong?”

Minho shrugged. “I don’t think so. I just…my wife has been calling. I need to call her back. Excuse me.”

Jinki’s eyes followed Minho as he hurried out of the room. Likewise, he found Taemin watching the doorway as Minho exited.

“Taemin-sshi, I will leave you and your friends to your privacy,” Taemin’s assistant, Rang Mi Soon, said. “Give me a call when you’re ready to go home.”

“Thank you, Mi Soon-sshi, I will,” Taemin said to her. Jinki also watched their maknae follow her with his eyes and, if he was being honest with himself, a little intrigued.

The sound of a camera clicking echoed in the room. Without them noticing, Kibum was already at it, taking food shots for later uploading and sharing on SNS. Upon seeing the amused expressions on Jinki and Taemin’s faces, Kibum asked sassily, “What? It’s not your face, don’t worry.”

Shaking his head, Taemin looked up at Jinki, saying, “I like going back. Don’t you?”

“Sometimes,” he answered, leading the way to the table. He looked towards the doorway and wondered if Minho had actually left.

_Sometimes I don’t know how to go back, Taemin-ah. Would you know?_


	9. The World Behind Where You Exist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The great ball of fire of 2023.

 

 

 

 

The group was already starting to eat when Minho re-entered the room and sat a seat apart from Taemin yet not directly across from him. He tried to catch Jinki's eye as he sat down but Jinki was busy shredding chicken and placing the bits onto Taemin's bowl of rice.

"Hyung-ah, you really don't have to do that," Taemin said, trying—and failing—to grab Jinki's chopsticks.

"Aish! Just let us baby you for tonight, Taeminnie," Jinki argued.

Kibum began pouring them their drinks. "Well, you _are_ the baby. You have no problem with iced tea, right?"

Taemin and Minho's gazes met. Taemin smiled awkwardly. Minho kept his expression neutral.

As dinner progressed, Minho remained silent, watching them and listening to the other three men talk about various topics: the weather, their parents, the current government, the latest Hollywood film to reach Korean shores. Whenever Minho got asked a question or for his opinion, he answered but vaguely. Thankfully, none of the three pursued the topic on family or the past. When dessert came and went, and Tak Gu had served them coffee and tea, Jinki opened his tablet and handed it to Taemin.

"We've found Jonghyun-ah," he said. Minho observed the look of utter surprise—and relief—on Taemin's face. He wondered, though, why Taemin suddenly looked paler.

"Taeminnie, are you all right?" Kibum asked worriedly. "Should I call Rang Mi Soon-sshi—"

Taemin shook his head and gave them all a wan smile. "No, no! I'm fine! I think I ate a little too much today. Please, don't feel sorry, Jinki-hyung! The food was lovely."

"I guess if it starts smelling like rotten eggs here we all know who's the culprit," joked Jinki. Kibum made a disgusted face. Taemin chuckled but quickly shifted to a serious mien as he perused the contents of the tablet.

"You saw Kim Heechul-sunbaenim, I assume," Taemin stated, setting the tablet down and looking at each of them. Minho kept his eyes on his empty rice bowl.

"Yes and he told us to come see you," Jinki said. "We need information on Sakju-gun, which, we were told, was where Rang Mi Soon-sshi came from before becoming your employee. Jonghyun-ah—or whatever it is that he has on him—was last traced within North Pyongan. Rang Mi Soon-sshi and her father were the only ones who came from that region in Kim Heechul-sunbaenim's records."

Taemin frowned . "While I was reading this, I already had an inkling why you suddenly wanted to see me as soon as possible. I have no problem letting you talk to Mi Soon-sshi and her father but I don't know if they will be open to talking about that place. They were never specific about their sufferings there and I admit I was afraid of dredging up the past so I never really asked any further. But since it's Jonghyun-hyung..."

"Jonghyun-hyung lived with you for a time, right?" Kibum asked. "Was he on good terms with your staff? I mean, I know he wasn't the old Kim Jonghyun we knew before the war..."

"Oh! They got along pretty well actually," Taemin said with a nod. "Mi Soon-sshi and her father helped him a lot while he was writing songs. He wanted to put out an album with a folk-inspired theme and Mi Soon-sshi's father used to sing pansori until whatever it is happened to them there that made them escape to Gangwon-do."

The group was silent for a beat and Taemin spoke again. "I'll see what I can do. Is it only information on Sakju-gun you really need? And what if they refuse to talk?"

"The government will make them talk," Minho grumbled loud enough to be heard by everyone.

All eyes went to Minho. This time, he met their gazes, even Taemin's.

"To us, this is about getting Jonghyun-ah back. To them, it's politics," Minho said, hoping the grimness of his tone would convince Taemin of the urgency of their meeting with the Rang father and daughter. "They're not after him, no. They want what he took away with him."

Taemin focused his eyes at Minho but Minho refused to be cowered. Whatever his feelings were about Taemin, they shouldn't matter as much as what they could do to help Kim Jonghyun. He managed to survive dinner, he could survive Taemin's presence a bit longer.

"Okay, okay," Taemin said, holding up a hand. "It is inevitable that I'd talk to Mi Soon-sshi about this, anyway. She would ask."

"And you'd actually share with her?" asked Kibum, baffled. "I mean, I'm close to my secretary—after all I did pluck her out of China, too—but this is confidential information, Taeminnie."

"I'd have no choice since I've never asked her about her past in North Korea," Taemin explained. "She would figure it out eventually anyway. It's better to be just up front with her and her father. Although her father might give us a bit of a hard time, I think Mi Soon-sshi can be easily persuaded. She and Jonghyun-hyung were very close—as close as any two people who shared the task of wiping my ass for me for quite some time could be."

No one laughed.

"That wasn't a cool joke, was it?" Taemin asked with a cringe.

"Hell, no!" Kibum snapped, sending a glare in his direction.

"Sorry," Taemin muttered, reaching inside his coat and extracting his hand phone. He pressed a button.

"Speed dial," he told them, quickly typing something, then returning the phone. "It's almost ten in the evening, time for my therapy. I promise I will talk to Mi Soon-sshi and set up a meeting again with all of you."

Kibum made a sound of assent while Jinki nodded, sighing with relief. Minho downed the contents of his teacup and stood just as the door opened and Tak Gu came in with Rang Mi Soon.

"That was fast," Taemin remarked. Rang Mi Soon, small and fragile-looking as she was, steadily walked towards Taemin and replied, "I just stayed in the kitchen and had dinner with Tak Gu-sshi. Are you ready to leave? We can spare another thirty minutes here if you want."

Taemin shook his head. "My doctors won't be happy to know I've been delaying those therapy sessions. And we do need to discuss some things, so..." Rang Mi Soon exposed a remote control from the back of the wheelchair, pushed a few buttons, and pulled the chair with Taemin away from the table. Minho, Jinki, and Kibum all stood and followed after the two. Tak Gu started sorting out the used plates.

They stopped at the entrance of the restaurant where Rang Mi Soon left them to get Taemin's pearl white electric Mohave Millenium X, an SUV specially built for Taemin by Kia Motors, upon endorsement by the government for services rendered during and immediately after the war. The information came from Kibum, who, Minho was pleasantly shocked to learn, now holds a significant percentage of the automobile giant's stocks.

"I've been using it for quite some time now and small problems have been popping out," said Taemin. "Kibum-hyung, anything you can recommend?"

Kibum pursed his lips for a moment before answering. "I'll check for you tomorrow. You know I don't really know anything about these things."

Taemin looked almost offended. Minho felt the same. "But you own all those stocks..!"

Kibum just shrugged. Jinki only smiled while shaking his head.

All eyes looked forward as the SUV approached and finally stopped in front of the group. Taemin looked up at his hyungs while Rang Mi Soon opened the passenger seat and carefully maneuvered the wheelchair closer. With the push of a button, the wheelchair's seat elevated until it was a few inches above the SUV's seat level. Taemin raised his arms and pushed the armrests backward.

Rang Mi Soon walked to the other side of the SUV, opening the door to get in. She next bent towards Taemin, shoved her arms beneath his blanket-covered thighs and began pulling him into the vehicle. Seeing her struggle and the pained look on Taemin's face, Minho automatically stepped forward, joined his arms with hers beneath Taemin and gently lifted him out of the wheelchair and onto the Mohave's leather seat.

"Thank you very much," Rang Mi Soon said breathlessly, bowing at the same time. "The chair could actually be compacted a little to fit in here without moving him but it's no longer doing that. Taemin-sshi's chair really needs to be sent to the shop. I'm sorry for the inconvenience."

Minho just held a hand out and waved. "It's not a problem." He moved his head and caught Taemin staring at him with an inscrutable expression on his face. Taemin quickly averted his gaze and focused on the others while Rang Mi Soon started the engine.

"We'll see each other again soon," he told them, grinning. "You'll all still come, right? I can expect that?"

Jinki nodded and held Taemin's hand. "Just give me a call, Taeminnie."

Kibum lightly patted Taemin's shoulder. Taemin returned his eyes to Minho's face and weakly smiled. Jinki closed the door. With a honk of the horn and a wave, Rang Mi Soon stepped on the accelerator and slowly drove out of the area, Taemin waving goodbye to them.

A buzzing sound was heard and Kibum stepped away to answer a phone call. Jinki turned towards Minho. "That wasn't so bad, right, Minho-yah?"

Minho sighed. "Not as bad as I imagined...or hoped."

Before Jinki could say anything else, Kibum arrived and said, "I can drop you off at your house, Jinki-hyung."

"Thanks, Kibum-ah but I did bring my car," Jinki said, politely declining. "Minho-yah and I will be fine. I'll just head in to help Tak Gu-sshi clean up then we'll get going, too."

"All right, then. I'll see you around." Kibum waved goodbye to the two and walked towards his own car.

"Need help with the clean up?" Minho asked Jinki. Jinki shook his head. "No, Tak Gu-sshi and I can handle it." He fished out the car keys from his jeans pocket and threw it at Minho who deftly caught them. "Mind getting the car?"

Once Jinki disappeared back into the restaurant, Minho walked to the designated parking area. There were two cars there: one was Tak Gu's, the other was Jinki's.

He approached, his body and his mind alert for any possible intruders. He easily reached the driver's side of Jinki's car, his body in between that and Tak Gu's.

It took him ten seconds from the restaurant's patio to the parking area.

At the eleventh second, he doubled-over...

...and vomited.

 

* * *

 

_11 May 2023_

_Jamsil Olympic Stadium_

_Seoul_ _,_ _South Korea_

 

 _Minho_ _waited in giddy anticipation inside Taemin's dressing room as the concert wound to a close. Inside the same dressing room were the three other members of SHINee, their manager, Taemin's parents, Jonghyun-hyung's parents, and a handful of other people from SM staff to those of the production. Even from where they were enclosed, the sound of almost 70,000 audience members cheering and chanting Lee Taemin's name over and over seemed like a volcano erupting._ _Minho_ _'s eyes caught the water inside a glass vibrating._

_Several minutes later, the door opened to let in a sweaty, grinning Taemin, stage make-up running down his face and neck, IEM still attached to his body by transparent adhesive tapes. The cheering inside the dressings room mimicked that of the stadium's. Taemin was eagerly embraced by family and friends._

_When it was_ _Minho_ _'s turn, he grabbed Taemin and held him in a chokehold just because he can, thanks to the height advantage. Insoles never really helped his members when it came to escaping from_ _Minho_ _'s chokeholds._

 _"Minho-hyung-ah!" Taemin faux complained, trying to disengage himself from_ _Minho_ _'s arms. When_ _Minho_ _finally let him go, Taemin laughed. "You always do that to me at every one of my concerts!"_

 _"You want a hug and a kiss, then?"_ _Minho_ _asked, opening his arms and puckering his lips for a kiss._

_Taemin stepped away, a disgusted look on his face. "Er, no, thanks! Those caveman clubs around my neck will do."_

_"Don't know what he took before coming here but that man almost fell off of the bleachers and landed on an ahjumma in front of us," Kibum deadpanned while giving Taemin a hug. "From screaming so loud."_

_"Kibum-hyung, thanks for coming to see me perform," Taemin said. "To be honest, I wasn't really expecting..."_

_"Yah!" Kibum snapped. "I did go to your concert immediately after getting discharged from the military two years ago! Granted, I didn't get to see another concert after that again..."_

_They heard Jinki and Jonghyun laughing behind them._ _Minho_ _walked away for a while to talk to one of the SM staff. The parents said their quick goodbyes and left the dressing room. Soon, only the five SHINee members were left._

 _"This is your last solo concert for the year, Taeminnie," Jonghyun said._ _Minho_ _sat beside Jinki on a couch and started munching on fish crackers. He thought he really shouldn't be eating them—his fitness trainer would be livid—but the dude was not here, so._

_"I'm glad I was given this chance to perform here at Jamsil," replied Taemin, picking at a bit of adhesive still stuck on the side of his neck. "I mean, just two weeks ago I was at Tokyo Dome. And two weeks after discharge we were all together at the World Cup Stadium. I still can't believe it."_

_The relaxed mood was broken when Taemin burst into tears._

_The other four men froze._ _Minho_ _, in the act of shoving a handful of bite-size crackers into his mouth, gaped, fish crackers falling to the floor from his open hand._

_Jinki was the first to move and went beside Taemin to embrace him._

_"I was just...I'm just so tired...happy but also very tired...and I was scared..." Taemin sobbed. "I was scared I wouldn't be able to do it like I imagined in my head..."_

_They all understood, of course. Taemin, despite being the great performer that he was, has never let go of pre-performance nerves. All these years of performing as part of SHINee or as a solo artist, touring all the continents of the world, didn't manage to cure him._

_But never in their fifteen years together had they seen Taemin break down this way...and after a show, too!_

_Taemin finally leaned away from Jinki's embrace and wiped his tears with a towel Kibum handed to him. "Shit, sorry about that. I don't know what came over me."_

_The other four guys were silent for a few minutes, giving Taemin time to sort his feelings out._

_"You did really well, Taeminnie," Jinki said soothingly, patting Taemin's back. "I'm just so proud of what you did here tonight. We all are."_

_"At least it's over now," Kibum said, rumpling Taemin's hair. "You can rest now, reflect. You've done SHINee World with us last February immediately after returning from military. Take your time and re-energize until we get to have our comeback once more as the five of us."_

_Taemin nodded. "Yes, of course. I promised the fans earlier I'd be back here at Jamsil with my hyungs."_

_Without needing any other words, Taemin rose to his feet, followed by the others when the door to the dressing room opened and their manager walked in, a worried look on his face._

_"We have a bit of a problem, guys," he told them. "I don't know how we would all be able to get out. The entire perimeter is blocked by vehicles and fans leaving. Traffic got bad. They all want to see Taemin-ah."_

_Taemin was smiling but_ _Minho_ _could see their maknae was really tired. He turned to the others and said, "Maybe we could distract the fans so Taeminnie can leave in private?"_

_"I don't mind," Jonghyun piped up, dropping his favorite cap on his head._

_"No, hyung-ah, I should go and at least wave goodbye to them," Taemin said. "They won't hurt me. Our fans are nice people."_

_"Well, you're not doing it without walls of steel and glass around you," their manager said firmly. At that moment another man entered and whispered something to him. The manager sighed and turned back to the members. "The only passable route out of here is a narrow walkway flanked by a lot of people. Our van wouldn't be able to pass through there."_

_"What do we do then?" asked Taemin. "Maybe I should just walk and then you can pick me up at the end..."_

_"No, you don't have to do that if something smaller than our van can pass through that walkway," Jinki mused out loud._

_"What? Like a motorcycle?" Taemin asked excitedly, a mischievous glint in his eye. Kibum scoffed. "Oh, no, hold your horses, Lee Taemin! Not a motorcycle! And where would you get one here anyway?!"_

_An idea came to_ _Minho_ _. "Wait! How about you use my car?"_

 _Similarly as with Taemin's tearful outburst earlier, the other four guys, including the manager, gaped at_ _Minho_ _._

 _"What?"_ _Minho_ _barked, already handing his car keys to Taemin. "Yah! You scratch that car anywhere, you're paying for it!"_

 _Taemin gave an excited shout and leaped onto_ _Minho_ _, grabbing him in a tight bear hug._

_"Thank you, hyung-ah!"_

_Minho_ _scowled and gently pushed Taemin back. "Yeah, yeah! Really, for someone as filthy rich as you, why can't you get your own car and actually drive it?"_

_"Says the person who hasn't changed his care for more than a decade," Kibum muttered under his breath._

_The manager thought for several moments before nodding his head and saying, "Okay, that could work. The company van is waiting for you at the private parking area. I'll send one of the staff to go in the car with Taemin. Where's your car, Minho-yah?"_

_"I'll take Taeminnie there."_

_While the other three members walked with their manager,_ _Minho_ _led Taemin to another area where he parked his car. It was still the same car he won during his stint on Dream Team._

_"For an old car, it looks like it just came out of the factory," remarked Taemin._

_"I take care of it well,"_ _Minho_ _said proudly, letting Taemin seat himself behind the wheel. Taemin closed the door and started the engine. He rolled down the window and said, "Come on in, hyung-ah."_

 _But_ _Minho_ _only shook his head and bent down to peer at Taemin. "I think you need to have the night to yourself, Taeminnie. You don't have to pretend with me."_

_Taemin opened his mouth to argue but closed it without saying anything. He looked forward for a few moments, probably thinking of what to say._

_"I was that obvious, huh?"_

_"You're always so obvious to all of us,"_ _Minho_ _said, chuckling. "We just don't tell you most of the time. Why do you think my suggestion wasn't met with resistance?"_

 _Taemin looked up at_ _Minho_ _and took his hand in a tight grip. "You know that I'm always grateful you're my friend, my sunbaenim and my hyung, right?"_

 _Minho_ _returned the grip for a moment and loosened his hold. "Me, too, Taemin-ah. I'm older, I should at least take care of you and grant you favors when I can. You deserve it for making me and a lot of people very happy today, Taeminnie."_ _Minho_ _pinched Taemin's cheek in jest. Quickly turning serious, though, he added, "Still, if you hurt my baby, you're going to pay for it. You understand? Maknae or not, friend or not, I will not go easy on you."_

 _Taemin grinned._ _Minho_ _grinned back._

 _"Now, wave to your fans and don't stay out until morning!"_ _Minho_ _reminded him. "After you return the car, stay at the dorm for a change, okay?"_

_"I will! Thanks again, hyung-ah!" Taemin yelled as he drove out of the parking area and towards the walkway their manager indicated._

_When_ _Minho_ _returned to the van alone, their manager and the other members were confused._

_"Why are you here?" Jonghyun asked, eyebrows raised._

_"Taemin wanted some time for himself, I know you saw it, too. So I gave it to him," he explained, riding shotgun while the three other members sat in the back. Their manager took the wheel and moved the van closer to the main exit._

_"I think it will take a little time before he manages to get himself out," Jinki said aloud. "That walkway is quite long and cramped."_

_"At least the crowd has thinned here," their manager said, expertly driving the van out of the parking area. They waved at some of the fans until they reached the main road. They increased speed._

_"Taemin will have to take an alternate route, a longer route but it can't be helped,"_ _Minho_ _said. "I did tell him not to take too long, though."_

 _"That was really nice of you to let him borrow your car," Jonghyun told_ _Minho_ _. "I sure as hell won't let him borrow any one of mine."_

 _"Oh, my goodness, no!" Kibum exclaimed with a shudder._ _Minho_ _and Jinki laughed, thinking of Jonghyun's collection of European sports cars. "Hyung, could you play some music on the radio, please!"_

_While they were all laughing, and music blaring from the van speakers, the van suddenly jumped in the air, as if they had run over a huge obstacle. Their manager stepped on the brake to prevent them from crashing head-on with another vehicle that stopped abruptly in front of them. Several other vehicles also stopped._

_"What the heck happened?" Jinki asked, his eyes and hands checking on his members. "Everybody okay?" He sat forward to look at their manager through the rearview mirror. "Hyung, what happened? Was that an earthquake?"_

_Their manager rolled his window down and looked out. "I don't know what happened. It felt like an earthquake but I'm not sure..."_

_"Why are they all getting out of the cars?" Kibum asked. Their manager got out but within seconds yelled at them "Stay inside! Don't go out!" while he dialled frantically into his hand phone. Soon, the music coming from the radio was drowned out by a million sirens and people shouting. The ground soon trembled from the feet of so many people running away from whatever it was behind them. Several of them crashed into their van. Jinki pulled Kibum and Jonghyun closer to him, the three of them opening their hand phones to call family._

_Unable to contain his curiosity,_ _Minho_ _removed his seatbelt and got out._

_"Hyung, what is going—"_

_Minho_ _turned to look in the direction where they came from._

_Mind-numbing terror like he had never felt before washed over him in waves as he watched the night sky turn bright, hot orange._

_"Oh my God!" Kibum cried out as he, too, with Jinki and Jonghyun, stared out of the window in awe and horror._

_Minho_ _stood there, frozen in shock, not fully aware of the human stampede coming towards him, all of them screaming and crying._

_The world was silent for a few seconds before the sound of a thousand volcanoes erupting overwhelmed him enough to crouch down and cover his ears. The orange night sky seemed closer now, along with the heat of a thousand suns, and dust in his mouth and eyes._

_In the silence and chaos of their immediate world, only one thought came to_ _Minho_ _._

_Lee Taemin. Their Taemin. His friend. His dongsaeng._

_He took a step...one...two...three..._

_He guessed someone had screamed his name from behind but his body would not know any other name but Lee Taemin, not even his own._

_And the owner of that name was there where the night sky blazed orange._

_So_ _Minho_ _ran against the human tide._


	10. All Obsessions Are A Curse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cold hearts and warm bodies.

_He's getting heavier_ , Jinki thought with pride, smiling as he slightly opened his eyes to his son's face. The boy peered down at him from his perch on Jinki's midsection. Jinki pretended to go back to sleep and earned a poke in the side.

"Appa!" Jin Woo whispered, bringing his hands to pinch Jinki's cheeks. "Appa, wake up!"

Jinki groaned and tried to turn sideways but the boy grabbed his pajama shirt front and started pulling. "Appa! I'm hungry! It's six already!"

"Where's your _halmoni_?" he murmured, his arms on their way to trap his son.

"She's still asleep and I don't want to wake her up," Jin Woo said, yelping in surprise when Jinki grabbed him and mock-wrestled with him on the bed. Giggling, Jin Woo fought against his father's strength but he was no match for Jinki's bulk. The two were still laughing albeit in a restrained manner when someone knocked on the door.

"Jinki-hyung? Everything all right in there?"

It was Minho. Jinki rose from bed and opened his bedroom door. Before he or Minho could greet each other good morning, Jin Woo launched himself at Minho.

"Uncle Minho! Good morning!"

Minho grinned down at his friend's son. "Good morning to you, too, Jin Woo-yah. Why are you up so early and so happy today?"

"Because Appa is going to make our breakfast!" Jin Woo replied. Minho raised his eyebrows at Jinki, who was still rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to you being up early yourself, Minho-yah," Jinki said, stretching his arms up while yawning.

"Military. Force of habit," Minho explained, ruffling Jin Woo's hair. "How about I start steaming some rice while we let your Appa wake up some more?"

Jin Woo nodded and excitedly led Minho from the bedroom, but not before Jinki mouthed his thanks to Minho.

While his son and Minho busied themselves in the kitchen, Jinki went to take a shower. Moments later, while drying himself, he heard Jin Woo inside the bedroom again, talking. Thinking the boy was either talking to Minho or role-playing, Jinki shook his head in amusement, awed by his son's ebullience and imagination.

"What's your name?"

"I'm Jung Min Seo. I worked with your father a long time ago..."

Jinki froze.

"Really? Do you also cook?"

"No, I don't. Your father does."

Jin Woo paused along with Jinki's breath. "Eomma doesn't cook, too. But Appa just said that. She died when I was just a baby—"

Jinki ran back into the bedroom and saw his son holding his hand phone. Jin Woo looked up and held out the hand phone to Jinki. "Appa, the phone was ringing so I answered. I'm sorry."

Jinki didn't understand why Jin Woo was apologizing until he saw his frowning face on the hand phone. He took the phone and gave Jin Woo a pat on the head. "Don't be sorry. Thank you for answering the phone. Now, run along and help your Uncle Minho with breakfast. I'll be out shortly." With a nod, Jin Woo left the room. Jinki locked the door and turned to his hand phone where Jung Min Seo's immaculate face stared back at him.

"I don't mean to sound like a prude but care to put on a shirt for starters?"

Jinki knew in his haste to get to Jin Woo he only had the sense to wrap a towel around his waist before rushing out of the bathroom. He set the phone down on a stand and crossed his arms, glaring down at Jung Min Seo's bored expression.

 _How did you get my private phone number?_ He wanted to ask but he knew she would either give him a lie for an answer or not give him any at all.

"No shirt? Suit yourself," she said, looking away for a few moments while she rummaged around her for something. When she looked back at him, the smile she gave him did not reach her eyes.

"I read your message a few hours ago about your friend, Lee Taemin, and his staff and talked to Blue House concerning this immediately. The Rang father and daughter are, indeed, recorded as North Korean defectors. The President had another private conversation with the Japanese Prime Minister but suddenly they're not in agreement. The President wants to keep this under the international radar but Japan is raring to share intel with Australia. I am in agreement with the President. Here, look at this. Can you see it? Is it crooked or blurred?"

She showed him what looked like a document but he could not read through the screen. Jung Min Seo kept adjusting the document's position, turning it right, left, upside down, forwards, backwards. Jung Min Seo cursed under her breath and wrinkled her face at the camera, then back at the document, trying to figure out how to place it. All the while, Jinki observed her, and noted the circles around her eyes behind her spectacles, her hair uncharacteristically done up in a messy bun, and her face devoid of cosmetics.

She looked like she had not been sleeping for days. What time zone could she be in right now?

"I'm sorry, it's—" She glanced at her wristwatch "—two fifty-five here in Nepal," she said, as if reading his mind.

Jinki sighed. "Jung Min Seo-sshi," Jinki finally spoke. "Just read it to me."

Jung Min Seo made a tutting sound. "This is just one page of an entire inquest on human rights abuses in North Pyeongan province in North Korea. My staff in New York forwarded this to me a few minutes before I called you. For security reasons I cannot forward this to you via the internet. The inquest will be sent to you through the US forces stationed at CampCoiner. I will send a special UN attaché to deliver it to you in person in two days. Read through it, you might find something important before your interview with the Rang family. I'll be back in Seoul by the end of June."

She removed her eyeglasses and blinked her eyes furiously. The movement was not distracting inasmuch as it was intriguing.

"Go to sleep, Jung Min Seo-sshi. You're useless without your wits about you. "

She narrowed her eyes. Jinki recalled she disagreed with people telling her what to do, even if it was out of concern for well-being. _Especially_ so.

"Put on a shirt, Lee Jinki-sshi."

"Nothing you haven't seen before," he deadpanned.

Jung Min Seo smirked. Without saying goodbye, she ended the video call.

The silence inside the bedroom allowed him to hear his son chattering in the kitchen, along with Minho's laughter and the sound of his parents finally awake.

 _Good_.

He inhaled deeply and shattered the phone against the opposite wall.

 

* * *

 

_18 March 2026_

_Kumgang County_ _,_ _North Korea_

 

 _Night had finally befallen over the land when Jung Min Seo and a retinue of people from the United Nations and the South Korean government arrived at their designated lodgings inside the Kumgangsan Beach Hotel. They had all arrived by bus, as per instructions by the North Korean government, escorted by North Korean soldiers and a handful of junior officials, from an almost ten-hour meeting with North Korean members of government at the_ _Kumgangsan_ _Culture_ _Center_ _._

_The meeting began mid-morning, the group still battling fatigue, tension, and the cold of the last days of winter. Jinki had been awake since five in the morning, the earliest to rise in the group, a habit he developed in his younger years and fortified in the time he spent in the military._

_Jung Min Seo, though, was always an hour ahead of him: wide awake, alert, dressed for work in her standard power suit and pumps, with a cup of steaming hot coffee in one hand and a sheaf of documents in the other, quietly waiting for everyone else to join her in the hotel's dining area._

_In most things, too, Jung Min Seo was a step ahead of him._

_Jinki held no delusions of grandeur where work was concerned. He knew next to nothing about politics and how governments were run. He had solid opinions on governance, yes, but those were informed only by what he'd read and by his own values. He had been an artist and a performer. How he came to work for the United Nations would probably remain a mystery to him._

_"You actually have an aptitude for politics, Jinki-sshi," Jung Min Seo told him several weeks ago when it was his ideas that she gambled on to be able to enter North Korea and start the peace process between their countries, while China continued to wreak havoc. Needless to say, the gamble paid off, hence, their presence in the still unopened-to-public_ _Mt._ _Kumgang Tourist Region._

_"I wish you also have the stomach for it," she added. "But you don't. A pity."_

_He was used to Jung Min Seo's passive-aggressiveness. It had riled him in the early months of his employment with her committee. He did not understand her moods, her actions, and her motivations. He'd submitted countless resignation letters and appeals to be returned to his regiment but all of them were thrown out of the window. he wondered if he'd been a shitty officer during his time in the army and that had been a major factor why they didn't want him back. It took some time and an accidental conversation with a former military superior that it was not the case._

_Jung Min Seo refused to let him go._

_Inside his hotel room in Kumgangsan deeper into the night, Jinki silently watched Jung Min Seo from where he lay on his bed. She was in the bathroom, seated on the toilet cover, naked as the day she was born, smoking. The room lights were out save for those in the bath, affording Jinki an unimpeded view of her lithe form, one leg crossed over the other, a hand on top of her knee while the other transported her cinnamon-flavored cigarette back-and-forth from her lips. Jung Min Seo had been a varsity swimmer in college, among other skills and accomplishments. To this day, she still swam whenever there were breaks in their hectic schedules._

_She did not finish the cigarette; she stood and hurled the remainder into the sink, drowning it in water while she brushed her teeth. Afterwards she padded towards the bed, leaving the bathroom lights open._

_"Don't worry, I asked about the smoking. I'm not going to be apprehended," she said, taking the space beneath the sheets, beside Jinki. They did not touch yet; Jinki stayed on his side, unmoving, while she leaned to the side and checked her hand phone. A useless exercise to an ordinary person watching, since hand phone use was regulated and monitored in the north. But Jung Min Seo was not Jung Min Seo for nothing. Hers was the only hand phone allowed with internet access among the group. Jinki's hand phone, and the others', had to be surrendered in Pyeongyang, to be retrieved later only when they return to the south. He was curious what was offered for the privilege but he refrained from asking. By then he already knew that where Jung Min Seo's actions were concerned, it was better off not knowing unless it was official business._

_"The Secretary General has advised us to take more caution starting next day's negotiations," she told him, her index finger scrolling down the hand phone, the backlight of the screen the only source of luminance in the bedroom. It allowed him to see Jung Min Seo's face up close with her trademark horn-rimmed spectacles perched on her nose. "I'm sure you noticed—Pyeongyang is getting antsy. They are not assured of_ _China_ _'s plans where they are concerned. You'll see, Jinki-sshi. In the end,_ _Korea_ _is what matters. Not_ _China_ _, not even our allies. Only_ _Korea_ _."_

_She typed a short message to a recipient he wasn't able to decipher and returned the phone to its place. She released her hair from its constricting bun and moved herself to a more comfortable position on the bed._

_"You're really determined to see this through before the next winter begins," Jinki finally spoke, his eyes trying to peer through the darkness at her face._

_"I am."_

_"What if you don't meet your deadline?" he dared to ask. Immediately, he felt her body stiffening under the covers. She turned to her side away from him. She was quiet but he could hear her breathing deeply, knew she was thinking of what to say._

_"Deadlines can be moved to suit undesirable circumstances," she said in a hard voice. "What should never be moved is our objective. Winter or springtime, this year, the next, until the day when I can't even brush my own teeth, time doesn't matter. The rest of the world can destroy itself but_ _Korea_ _stays, north and south, together. I'll do whatever it takes."_

_"Only_ _Korea_ _," Jinki muttered, rolling his eyes at her back. He'd seen what Jung Min Seo can do for her goals and ambitions. They weren't all harmless, both to herself and other people. He'd seen her struggle against what was right and what was needed to be done because most times they weren't the same and he was an unwilling witness to the consequences of her choices. Yet while he frowned upon and blatantly disagreed with some of her decisions, in public and in private, he admired her singular focus._

_Along with that admiration, though, was a discomfiting fear for her. He told her once about this fear during a meeting with the rest of the committee and the President of South Korea. She had stared at him condescendingly throughout his speech and gave him a piece of her mind when he finished. He never made the mistake again._

_They were silent once more for a few minutes until he said, more to himself than to her, "Once a peace pact is signed between Pyeongyang and_ _Seoul_ _, I'm resigning from my post in the committee."_

_"Is that so? What if you don't meet your deadline?" she asked, using the same question he gave her. "Are you going to sing and dance again?"_

_Jinki shrugged and turned towards her. There was no malice in her tone, only the sound of a curious woman. He should know the difference by now after almost two years with her. "I'm leaving after I get married, I will open a restaurant, have a bunch of kids, and grow old singing trot. I have faith_ _Korea_ _will have peace by then through the efforts of Jung Min Seo." He said them to lighten the mood when he knew he'd struck a nerve by doubting her and the future she wanted to create for_ _Korea_ _. He scooted closer and touched her. Carefully he slid his arm around her, placing his hand beneath the curve of one breast to feel her heartbeat. His legs wrapped around her, and her own molded itself into the crevices of sinews, their bodies familiar to each other since last year._

_"Of course."_

_Her heartbeat remained steady, calm, and regular, it's significance coming to his awareness like a punch to the gut. "Of course?"_

_She slightly moved her head. "Of course. Okay. All right. You must have handed me a dozen or more resignation letters within the last two years...I'm running out of excuses to the Secretary General for them. I'm not going to stop you."_

_Jung Min Seo paused and he felt her shift slightly so her fingers can intertwine with his._

_"Let this old woman give you an advice: Don't wait, Jinki-sshi. Follow your own deadline."_

_He reckoned there was nothing else they could say to each other that night, nothing that could have changed what she was or what she wanted. What he did was hold her tight to him that night, tighter than all those other nights when they'd lain spent, sweaty and pleasured beyond what he could have thought two people intensely drawn to each other could be. He wonders everyday, watching her do what she does best, what drew her to him, what made her open her door to him and welcome him with her hands, her mouth, and her body, the day he revealed himself to her, to this cold, calculating, strong-willed older woman his mother would disown him for._

_At the back of his mind, Jinki understood he had an irrevocable obsession with Jung Min Seo, which made him hate and want her in equal measure. Half of those resignation letters were because he could still think straight and when he still believed he could never compromise his principles, not even for the glorious reunification of the north and the south. The other half was because whatever the curse he had gotten himself under may be, he thought he should at least make an effort to fight against it, to leave Jung Min Seo before he finds himself permanently damaged. But damage had already been done and he saw himself withering against and straining towards the curse's power. There was no more any hope for him._

_Jinki's free arm moved to settle itself under her head and his free hand rose to her face, his fingers lightly tracing her mouth. In return, she let him cling to her and it was enough. Jinki pressed his face to her shoulder and closed his eyes breathing her._

_When he opened them again, he welcomed the morning alone in the room with her side of the bed looking untouched—everything a deliberate message to him, their usual parting since embarking on this journey of desire and irrational need with her._

_Jung Min Seo had never been inside the room._


	11. Becoming Undone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened in 2023...

 

 

 

 

 

_Something was pressing on his chest and on his back._

_His nostrils were clogged, like he had a cold. He knew his eyes were open but the world was dark. His body felt heavy._

_And the pain. It began like the sensation of a feather lightly brushing his skin at first, the strokes slow and languid, gradually going faster and deeper. In short time gone was the feather, replaced by a thousand needles puncturing his skin in irregular beats. The cold of steel became the heat of fire, he felt he was being branded._

_The agony gave him the strength to open his mouth but no sound came out. Hot tears cascaded down his face as he tried to work his mind around whatever it was that was happening to him._

_His last memories before this torture in the dark was of lights, music, and laughter._

_He shouldn't cry. Not now. His mind can defeat the pain or this nightmare._

_He tried moving in a crawl but he went nowhere._

_The pain magnified a hundredfold._

_He couldn't breathe. His mind kept screaming._

**God! Somebody! Please help me!**

 

* * *

 

Taemin's house, Minho learned from Kibum, was located in Bangi-dong, Songpa-gu, south of the Han River. Previously he had lived close to the AsanMedicalCenter during the war, then relocated to Munjeong-dong in 2026, at the time Jonghyun was living with him.

He sold the house in Munjeong-dong and finally settled in Bangi-dong, close to the Olympic Park.

Minutes ago, as Minho drove Jinki's car through a set of automatic wrought-iron gates, he was amazed by the fact that Taemin was able to procure real estate in Seoul of such dimensions and privacy. The perimeter of the house was surrounded by tall, brick walls enclosing a garden and driveway, with a pool at the back. The house itself was a bungalow type, which Taemin had had built while he was still in Munjeong-dong.

Today, Minho realized was once again thrust into Taemin's life, led by Taemin in his brand-new robo-exoskeleton walker from the company EKSO, walking the spacious walkways inside the house with Jinki beside him. Kibum had responsibilities at SM and wouldn't be able to join them.

"Kibum-ah hasn't been here yet," Taemin told them, slowly ambulating through the robotic exoskeleton. "He'd been to see me once in Munjeong-dong and just picked on everything from the wall paint to the roof tiles. So I transferred here."

"You did all these just because Kibum-ah picked on your previous house?" Jinki asked disbelievingly.

Taemin chuckled. "Not really. He wanted me to live more like he does, I just can't. I left because the corridors were too narrow, three people abreast couldn't fit. Jonghyun-ah, Mi Soon-sshi, and myself had a hard time manoeuvring ourselves just getting me to my room. I didn't have the Ekso at the time."

Taemin further pointed out to them the different rooms, the kitchen, the dining area, the path leading to the back patio and to the pool. Minho noticed that the furniture were arranged in such a way as to give Taemin more free space to ambulate without hitting anything.

The walls were white, decorated with tapestries and Japanese watercolor paintings. The largest one was of him done in hues of blues, red, purples, and pink.

"A fan gave that to me a long time ago. Eomma kept it for me and had it framed like that," he told them with a smile. "I told her you were coming to visit me. I think she might have cried."

"How's your parents by the way?" asked Jinki, taking a seat in the living room. Minho took the one beside him while Taemin pushed a button on the Ekso and it immediately conformed into a chair. "Wow! That's so cool! So you don't even need a chair to sit?"

Taemin shook his head, grinning. "Mind passing me that throw pillow?" Jinki handed him one, which Taemin dropped between his back and the upper edge of the Ekso. "I'd need something to cushion my back. The edge of this thing can be uncomfortable. But there's a built-in cushion between my bottom and the Ekso so I don't chafe and develop sores. I have another one like this, developed by Hyundai and they're developing a new one with more features and stability, with my help of course. Don't bother asking Kibum-ah. He won't be able to explain it well."

Taemin paused for a while before letting out a sound of surprise. "Oh! You were asking about my parents? They're in Yokohama right now, visiting friends they met when I was in hospital there. She says to apologize to you on her and Appa's behalf that they couldn't be here to see you...especially Minho-hyung."

Minho pursed his lips and couldn't say anything.

Jinki kept nodding absentmindedly.

Taemin observed his hyungs for a moment and sighed. "I guess we should talk a little about Mi Soon-sshi and her father before they arrive."

Earlier, Taemin told them that Mi Soon and her father had gone to buy groceries and other things for the house. He also told them that he'd spoken to Mi Soon and her father. The old man preferred not to talk about his experiences in the north but Mi Soon did not mind. She could provide answers depending on the questions. And she was concerned for Jonghyun.

"How did they come to work for you, anyway?" Jinki asked again, knowing Minho was probably not going to open his mouth in Taemin's presence anytime soon.

"They came on recommendation," replied Taemin, taking a manila envelope from a bag hanging from the Ekso and handing it over to Jinki. Two file folders were inside. Jinki gave Minho the father's file while he perused Mi Soon's. They exchanged folders a few minutes later.

"Rang Gil Bong worked as a biochemist for a little known laboratory in Pyeongyang in the 1960s and transferred to the Ponghwa Chemical Plant in Sinuiju, North Pyongan in the early 1980s," Jinki read aloud. "He retired in the late '80s to become a farmer in his hometown in Sakju-gun before getting imprisoned for false charges of treason and later escaped with his son and daughter."

"The son died during the escape, that Mi Soon-sshi told me," Taemin shared.

"The father and the son were imprisoned in a separate camp while Rang Mi Soon was not sent to prison until she was in her mid to late 20s. She worked as a nurse outside the camp and inside."

Jinki looked first to Minho then to Taemin. "I was sent the inquest on human rights abuses in North Korea, including those in North Pyongan. Man, it was hard reading but nothing I haven't seen before. The time period of the Rangs' imprisonment coincides with the highest ever recorded number of abuses and mortalities from North Pyongan."

"Maybe that's why they've been reluctant to talk to me about what they experienced there. It must have been really horrible." Taemin held out a hand take back the files. "I promise I'll give these to you later but not right now. They don't know yet how much information I'm giving you. All they know is that what they know could help find Jonghyun-ah."

The sound of a car entering the driveway alerted them to the arrival of Rang Mi Soon and her father.

"Just a precaution. The old man can be a bit ill-mannered when anything about North Korea comes up. Please be patient," added Taemin.

In a minute, Rang Mi Soon stepped into the living room on her way to the kitchen, arms laden with groceries. Minho immediately rose to help her with them.

"Are there any more?" he asked her. Rang Mi Soon nodded.

"Where's your father?" Taemin asked, looking to where she came from while Minho hurried to the driveway to retrieve the rest of her purchases.

Rang Mi Soon sighed apologetically and talked from the kitchen. "I'm sorry, Taemin-sshi. When I told him about your friends wanting to know more about our experiences in the north, abeoji got angry. He didn't want to talk about it, he says out of respect for the dead we shouldn't be bringing it up. So he ordered me to let him off at the gate. He's probably at the garden he loves so much, thinking. Oh!" Rang Mi Soon exclaimed seeing Minho carting the rest of the groceries and depositing them on the kitchen counter. "Thank you and I'm sorry for the inconvenience, Choi-byeongjangnim..."

"No problem," Minho said politely, returning to his seat in the living room. Jinki had taken out his tablet and quietly read through the copy of the inquest he received from the UN attaché he met at CampCoiner a few days ago.

"I'll be with you gentlemen shortly. I'll just prepare Taemin-sshi's afternoon medications—"

"Thank you, Mi Soon-sshi but I already took them!" Taemin called out from the living room.

"All right! I'll just prepare some snacks!"

In a little while, Rang Mi Soon came bearing a tray with a pitcher of iced lemonade and ham sandwiches.

"How did you make these so quickly?" Taemin asked her, taking a tissue-wrapped triangle from her hand.

"I didn't as there's no time. Those are from 7-11," she replied cheekily. Taemin and Jinki laughed and even Minho couldn't fight a smile.

They spent a few minutes eating the sandwiches in silence until Taemin calmly said, "Mi Soon-sshi, they need information on North Pyongan because that's where they think Jonghyun-ah is right now. There's no pressure. Just tell us what you know, however insignificant, answer their questions. You don't have to answer if you don't feel like it—"

Rang Mi Soon gave Taemin's shoulder a pat. She transferred seats from beside him on his Ekso to a couch facing Minho and Jinki. Jinki opened his tablet and handed it to her.

"That's a full report from the UN Human Rights Committee on North Korean Affairs of prison camps from 1984 to 2028," Jinki told her. "The seventy-sixth page until the hundred and twentieth are about the prison camp in Sakju-gun."

"I assume you already know that was where my father was born, where he was raised, and where he worked before North Korean soldiers took him to prison," she said, scrolling down the tablet. "My father's testimony is not recorded here because he refused to give it. The UN officers who interviewed him did not pressure him to talk, thankfully. It was enough for them to know he had come from that prison camp and had been marked and traumatized. I couldn't tell them all the details either."

"Do you know why he was put in prison in the first place?"

"They said it was treason but I didn't know why they suspected him. I think maybe because he worked in Ponghwa. But he really didn't do anything of consequence there save assist in research."

"Would you know what that research was?"

Rang Mi Soon shook her head. "Abeoji never talked about the specifics of his work with us. He only ever talked about farming."

"And you?"

"My brother, Rang Hae Joon, helped him with the farm, along with our mother. I took up biochemistry in college but abeoji was adamant I not go into the profession so I became a nurse in Pyeongyang instead."

There was a beat before she added, "I cannot tell you the exact details of what he and my brother experienced but I can tell you my part in this."

Minho suddenly spoke up. "You were a nurse in Pyeongyang, Rang Mi Soon-sshi. But you were also in prison? For what?"

"I went to Sakju-gun after a morning shift ended, with the intention of getting my father and my brother out." She frowned slightly, recalling her plan that day. "I'd met with a fellow nurse whose family was detained in Sakju-gun. Guards rotate and change shifts as with any other prison camp. The place also has an hour each day when the inmates are tasked to go out of their cells and help with the weeding or planting or whatever. The hour changes, sometimes in the morning, sometimes in the evening. There's a routine, though. We planned the escape for more than a year but on the day itself, she was nowhere to be found."

"It didn't occur to you that you were already found out?" asked Minho. "You still went to the prison?"

"It did, Choi-byeongjangnim, but the only family I have left were in there while I was outside, free...or as free as I could afford to be in Pyeongyang. I had to get them out of there. We had a contact inside Sakju-gun, a guard who has been helping other inmates to escape. When I arrived at Sakju-gun in the dead of night, they were waiting for me. The guard was dead and so was my colleague, I was told later."

"Later?"

Rang Mi Soon glanced at Taemin before answering in a quieter tone. "Later when things, had, um, died down. When they caught me, they didn't immediately throw me into a cell. They did let me see my father and my brother for an hour maybe..." She stopped talking abruptly and Minho heard the catch in her voice.

Minho's eye caught Taemin trying and failing to reach out and touch Rang Mi Soon's hand.

"Mi Soon-sshi, if it's too hard for you to tell us, you don't have to..."

She shook her head. "No, I think it's time the story is told in its entirety. I owe you the truth, at least, Taemin-sshi, for everything you've done for me and abeoji..."

"Did they torture your father and brother in front of you, Rang Mi Soon-sshi?" Jinki asked in a kind voice.

The woman scoffed, wiping the corners of her eyes with her fingers. "You could look at it that way, I guess. The guards, so many of them I couldn't even count, beat me up and raped me in front of my father and my brother. Was it an hour? I really don't remember the exact duration. But it happened. Abeoji and Hae Joon-oppa tried to help me—"

A door leading to the pool area slammed shut, loud enough to make the lemonade inside the pitcher to make ripples.

Rang Mi Soon smiled sadly. "Don't mind him. He's just upset hearing about this again after a long time."

Minho angled his head and stared at Taemin's steel-and-wire encased legs while Taemin himself had his gaze averted from Rang Mi Soon's, his eyes staring at an unknown point on the floor. Jinki sighed and looked into Rang Mi Soon's eyes. "Rang Mi Soon-sshi, if Jonghyun-ah is in North Pyongan, what are the odds that he has been captured and is in the prison?"

The woman chewed on her lower lip. "If Jonghyun-sshi ever listened to me properly when I told him about the prison, there would be absolutely no chance at all for the soldiers to find him in North Pyongan. You wouldn't find him in the prison in Sakju-gun or anywhere else."

Taemin and Minho's heads whirled towards her.

"What?" asked Taemin. "You told Jonghyun-ah...about what happened to you?"

Rang Mi Soon seemed to have noticed Taemin getting upset and laid a placating hand over his. "Not everything, but I did tell him I spent time in prison. I told him about the mountains in North Pyongan and the Amnok—the river the Chinese named Yalu. I grew up there, after all. I should think I know the terrain better than anyone here in the south save for my father."

"But why would Jonghyun-ah go there of all places?" Jinki asked aloud, frowning down at his tablet while searching for information on the North Pyongan province.

"I think it's my fault," Rang Mi Soon said, her voice weary. "I told him so few people go to North Pyongan because it's too mountainous and the weather, it's so cold. But in the summer, the rivers and streams flow like the ones here in the south, grasses grow tall, rice is abundant. In winter, the land is your enemy, that and the air you breathe. Out in the wilderness and higher up towards KangnamMountain, not even the most obedient soldier of the military will wholeheartedly march across merely to find a prisoner....because they know if not through violence, it is the land that will kill you."

When none of the men spoke, Rang Mi Soon added, "But it's also strange to me why he would choose to go so far for anything. Was he trying to run away from something or someone? Taemin-sshi, I didn't notice anything off with Jonghyun-sshi before he left us...did you?"

"Rang Mi Soon-sshi," Jinki began again. "Did Jonghyun-ah tell you anything at all about Guangzhou? Anything he discovered or took with him when he came back to Korea?"

She shook her head. "Whenever we talked of our experiences in prison, Jonghyun-sshi would only tell me about the songs he wrote while he was there and that he was rescued by one of the guards when the prison was burning."

Minho and Jinki glanced at each other. Jinki turned to Taemin who seemed to be deep in thought, frowning. "When I was in Beijing, I saw Jonghyun-ah in one of the detention centers there. He didn't talk much, understandably, from all the trauma he experienced but I recall him telling me about the Guangzhou POW camp and the laboratory. The side where his cell was located was attached to the laboratory. There was no other passageway but through the prison. The cells apparently used to house animals for research before the war converted them into holdings for people."

"When the laboratory in Guangzhou exploded because of a chemical accident, it brought down a section of the prison floors, killing inmates, guards, and scientists," explained Jinki. "Jonghyun-ah was the only survivor of the section that blew up."

"They must have thought he had something to do with the explosion," Minho murmured, the weight of his friend's plight all alone suddenly making it hard to breathe. He rose from his seat and walked over towards a watercolor painting of camellias. The colors were calming and reminded him of his daughter's artwork.

Behind him, Taemin nodded, a dark expression on his face. "They roughed him up very bad. Jonghyun-ah was half-dead when they sent him to Beijing. He even had trouble remembering my name when I saw him there."

Rang Mi Soon caught Jinki's attention once more. "Lee-hasagwan, is there anything else I can do to help find Jonghyun-sshi?"

Jinki nodded towards Minho's direction. "Minho-yah had been inside Pyeongyang during the war. During their attempt to escape towards the DMZ, he managed to exit southwest of Pyeongyang in secret after mapping the immediate outskirts of the city and multiple possible escape points. Amazingly, Jonghyun-ah seems to have gone beyond even that. Minho-yah can take care of the return to Seoul. What we need are specific directions on how to exit Pyeongyang northwest, towards North Pyongan and the Sakju-gun region."

Rang Mi Soon paled, which did not go unnoticed by Taemin. "What? What is it, Mi Soon-sshi?"

She looked up at Minho who had turned his head at that moment, allowing Minho to see the fear in her eyes.

"Y-You're going back in there?" she whispered fearfully. "Oh, no..."

Minho ran a hand through his hair in frustration while Jinki was unable to say anything. Taemin looked from one man to the other, his calm demeanor becoming quickly replaced by confusion and mounting tension. Minho looked away from him struggling to move within the exoskeleton.

"Jinki-hyung! Hyung-ah! What's the meaning of this?!"

Jinki looked to Minho helplessly. Minho nodded once. "Taemin-ah, months ago I was contacted by the government because a Japanese satellite had traced Chinese technology declared in Hiroshima." As Jinki told more and more of Jonghyun's story, Minho watched Rang Mi Soon look more and more afraid. Taemin had his head in his hands by the time Jinki finished.

"So the two of you have talked about this," Taemin said scathingly behind his hands. He glared at Minho. "You're going back to Pyeongyang where you're probably among their most wanted targets after what you did there. That's just...stupid!"

The vehemence in Taemin's tone did not deter Minho from explaining their decision. "There is no one else in the military today, not even among our superiors and the generals who have been inside Pyeongyang and out in different ways. My entire platoon was gone by the time my squad was done with the city. I have the city mapped in my head and in my soul, every damn exit and entry point. It saved my life. I'd rather not do this either but it's Jonghyun-ah."

Minho had more to say, all the words at the tip of his tongue, but he knew it was not the time. He wasn't sure either if he deserved to say anything more, especially to Taemin.

"Minho-yah and I talked about it in length and like you said, maybe it is stupid," Jinki told Taemin quickly. "But Minho was never identified by the North Korean border guards. That reconnaissance mission was undercover for the most part and none of the soldiers involved were ever recorded. Minho-yah accepted to be part of that mission. Had Minho-yah died there, no one would have known who he was."

"They would if they knew who he was before he became a soldier!" Taemin argued, eyes flashing towards Minho then at Jinki. "What? You really believe they don't have internet in that place?"

"They can access Youtube, if they know how to hack properly," Rang Mi Soon said weakly, agreeing with Taemin.

"Also, this is just in the beginning stages, don't worry. We still need to discuss this in detail with our superiors..."

But Taemin had cut Jinki off by pressing a button on the Ekso and rising to a standing position. Taemin was sweating profusely and looked very angry. Rang Mi Soon also stood, hovering by Taemin's side, face creased with worry.

"Taemin-sshi, you don't look so well..."

"This is a suicide mission, hyung-ah! You're asking Mi Soon-sshi to help you go to a place that could get Minho-hyung killed!" Taemin was almost shouting. "I'm not letting anyone of you do this!"

"That's not your prerogative, Lee Taemin!" Minho snapped. "We came here for information upon the orders of the government, not for you to tell us how to do our job."

Jinki went to stand beside Minho and held his arm in a tight grip. "Minho-yah, this is not going to get us any help..."

Minho brushed Jinki's hand off. "If they won't give us what we need, I'll find another way. I'd walk blindly there if I have to, without anyone's help! It's nothing I haven't done before."

"Choi Minho!"

"Minho-hyung!"

"That arrogance will not only get you killed but also take your friend's life. You don't want that to happen."

All eyes turned towards the pool area where Rang Mi Soon's father, Rang Gil Bong, stood, a slightly bent man in his seventies, hair all gone white, a face browned and wrinkled from many years under the heat of the sun. He limped towards the group and stared Minho in the eye.

"I suggest you leave for now and find a way to make my daughter help you in the way you want to be helped," the old man said. "Please."

Jinki closed his eyes in embarassment and bowed deeply to the old man. "I am very sorry, abeonim. We'll come back another time." To Taemin and Rang Mi Soon, he said pleadingly, "If there was another way, I would have taken it. Please, think about it, Taemin-ah, Rang Mi Soon-sshi. Let's go, Minho-yah."

Jinki bowed to them and walked away, followed by Rang Gil Bong. Minho huffed and bowed quickly to Rang Mi Soon in apology. He met Taemin's stare for a moment and went on his way.

While he was donning his shoes at the front door, a shadow fell on him and he saw it was Rang Gil Bong. When Minho straightened up, the old man's head only reached to his shoulder. But Rang Mi Soon's father did not look like a man easily intimidated by size.

"You shouldn't have come here," he growled under his breath. "You brought on more trouble for your friend and your country by coming here and asking your questions."

Minho's cheek twitched. He was liking the old man less and less. He usually liked old people but he was about to make an exception. "Kim Jonghyun is like a brother to me."

"Did you ever think the reason why he went to that godforsaken place in the north could be because he didn't want to be found?"

When Minho kept silent, Rang Gil Bong said, "This is the first time I'm seeing you, Choi-byeongjangnim. I'm sure you know a thing or two about not wanting to be found."

"I'm not hiding now."

Minho murmured the words but the old man still heard him despite Jinki starting up the engine of his car. He felt the old man take one of his and press something there.

"There is nothing for you in the north, young man. Only death awaits you there. But if you're so determined to meet that fate, for your friend or for your country, then let fate lead you."

The old man turned around and left him.

When he had buckled himself in the passenger seat, Jinki wasted no time laying into him.

"What the fuck happened back there, Choi Minho?!" Jinki yelled, stepping on the brake pedal so hard that they almost ran into a streetlamp outside Taemin's gate.

Minho ran a hand down his face. "I'm sorry, hyung—"

"Sorry?!" Jinki cursed under his breath and took several calming breaths before speaking again in a milder tone. "Look, Minho-yah, don't think I don't understand because I do, okay? I haven't lived with you all those years and not know a thing about you or Taemin-ah and the others. Whatever this is between you and Taemin, this has got to stop. We need Rang Mi Soon's cooperation and from the looks of it, she won't help us if Taemin-ah tells her not to. The woman is indebted to Taemin-ah. She won't do anything to jeopardize her position in his household because after the war, where will she and her father go? North Korean defectors are still largely discriminated here. Do you understand that at least?"

Minho kept his head down, eyes downcast.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Jinki accelerated the car. "I feel like I should be drinking right now but let's just go home and re-think our plans. I'd have to give Jung Min Seo a report by the end of this week. Shit."

Minho apologized again and Jinki grunted, grabbing Minho's shoulder. "I'm not angry with you, Minho-yah. I'm sorry I yelled, too."

Jinki gave Minho's shoulder a light squeeze and turned on the radio, not noticing Minho staring at a piece of paper in his other hand.

 

* * *

 

_When he opened his eyes, the dark was replaced by light so bright it made him close them again._

_But somewhere in the light he could hear music, so many tinkling sounds like baby bells hung all around him. He slowly re-opened his eyes, waited for his pupils to adjust to the light._

_His vision was blurry and his eyes felt sticky. He moved his right hand, heavy, and slowly brought it up to his face._

_Where...where was his face?!_

_His hand found no skin, no eyes, no nose, no mouth. Everything it touched was made of plastic and fabric._

_He opened his eyes wider and they finally woke up to a never-ending nightmare._

_And the pain. It began like the march of a column of ants on his skin, their legs gaining a foothold as they crawled from his toes to his belly, the staccato tickling quickly becoming like an itch that was building and spreading like the sensation of salt being poured on an open wound. Only this time, the wound was large enough to cover half of his body. He was burning alive._

_He was choking on plastic and water. He was drowning inside the light. The tinkling music of the bells was replaced by a loud screaming siren._

_To scream against the torture was reflex, to reach out to anyone was instinct. Someone else was with him in that room filled with light. He couldn't scream because he was choking and he was hurting everywhere all at once. He couldn't cry. He was too afraid to cry. Any moment now his heart would burst in his chest._

**If anyone has a gun, please shoot me dead!** _his mind screamed._

_He tried moving but he stayed in place, every bit of muscle and bone on his chest begging him to stay still but his mind had a will of its own._

_The pain was going to kill him. He wanted it to kill him now. He should move some more and get this over and done with..._

_His ears picked up a new sound. It was muffled, there was no other way to describe it, like he was underwater._

Whoomp...whoomp...whoomp...whoomp...

 _He felt like he_ **was** _underwater, in a pool or in the sea, the world of Poseidon, everything moving in exagerrated slow-motion. He was in the dark of this fluid world,_   _among so many waving lights, dressed in gold, wrapped in a multitude of voices crying out for him, chanting and screaming his name—a god.  
_

**Lee Taemin! Lee Taemin! Lee Taemin!**

_How could a god be in so much pain? How does one kill a god?_

* * * * *

_"Mobilize the CCU team now!" one of the doctors who first arrived on the scene yelled as nurses and hospital staff ran in all directions in and out of the room, carrying familiar instruments and machines. This was not a scene from a television drama, however._

_On the other side of the glass window, Lee Taemin's parents and brother held each other in despair and hopelessness._

_The doctors pushed Choi Minho away and out the door as they made another one of seemingly endless attempts to keep Taemin alive._

_With one last horrified look at Taemin's burnt legs, and his broken convulsing form, Minho left without saying goodbye._

_He never returned._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The scene where Taemin starts having pain-triggered delusions about being a god was inspired by a tweet from @/kangnaengee who posted a scene of Taemin during his OFFSICK concert, rendered in ultra-slow motion. 
> 
> Check out the original tweet and video clip to get a better feel of his experience and deeper empathy for Taemin. 
> 
> 이때 태민이가 팬들을 너무 따스하게 바라보고 있더라ㅠㅜㅠㅠㅠ 팬들을 바라보는 미소 너무 예쁘고 이 순간이 진짜 넘넘 감동.... 


	12. The Chess Piece

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The most dangerous game to play: LIFE.

 

 

 

 

It was a blustery day, the summer season in full force along with humid winds. He wanted to move and do something but he didn't know what. His gut has been telling him something else was going to happen and he needed to stay in his office for a while longer. Years ago, on this day, he would have been young and having fun with four other people, scarfing down pig trotters and cold noodles.

The eighteenth of July came quietly and was probably going to leave the same way. It was an important date for SHINee, one that has been figuring prominently on their minds for the past few months. Since 2023, however, they have never celebrated Taemin's birthday as they used to when they were much younger. Reasons such as busy individual schedules, personal lives, and other things always come up on the day. Perhaps, at the core of it all, they thought it didn't matter anymore.

What was the point? The war already broke Taemin in such a horrible way, Kibum couldn't help wanting to retch from so much anger and regret. Add to that, the war broke them all apart in invisible yet potent ways. 

Though now, he wondered, if Rang Mi Soon had at least bought Taemin a cake. Kibum figured he ought to send Taemin a gift, maybe a brand new special SUV tailored to his needs since the old one was already giving him and Rang Mi Soon trouble.

He was staring out at the mess that was Seoul from his office window late afternoon of that day when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. His secretary and erstwhile personal assistant, Lee Bong Seong stared at him inquiringly.

"I've been calling your name, sir, for the last minute. I'm sorry for disturbing you."

Kibum shook his head and glanced at the piece of what looked like a fax paper in her hand. "No, it's fine. I've been woolgathering. What's that?"

He reached out for the paper but didn't have to read the body to know what it was. The seal of the Ministry of National Defense screamed at him from the header. He immediately sat behind his desk and took out an old iPhone model from the war. He looked up and saw Secretary Lee inching towards the door.

"Xiao Huai-sshi," he called out her name, the Chinese name she was born to. She stopped and turned around. "Stay," he said, motioning her to the seat in front of his desk. She slowly walked towards him and sat down, not saying anything. She stared at her hands, silent. Kibum knew she didn't want to be called that name anymore. He also knew she understood why he would call her that only in private and only when necessary...to get her focus and attention. In this case, he needed her here while he answered to the summons from the Ministry. Only Xiao Huai, former administrative clerk to the Chinese Premier, would understand.

He dialed on the keypad from memory, aware that while he resented being summoned like so, he still kept the phone charged and ready to be used, like right now. A disembodied voice answered on the fifth ring, that moment already part of a series of communications codes known only to a few people, and that included him. Not even the President of Korea had access to what he had.

He supposed he should be proud. But it was an achievement he did not actively sought. It was them who searched him out and begged him to help them. He could not say it was out of pure love for his country that prompted him to say "Yes, I will do it". More likely, he'd been an antsy man back then, rendered inactive by the circumstances...and that grated on him. He could not stand not doing anything. SHINee was as good as over in 2023 when the bomb that China dropped on Seoul flipped Minho's car, which Taemin had been driving, burning and dislocating everything from Taemin's navel down, along with his dreams and plans for the future.

Kibum and his family had left Korea almost immediately before emergency drafting and re-drafting could be enacted. Some have called them cowards. Maybe that was true. He couldn't face what happened to Taemin so closely. In that regard, he understood why Minho left first and demanded to be immediately redrafted back into the army and sent where the enemy was. Jinki had been less open about his grief but it was there in his eyes. He would have denied himself the right to be emotional about Taemin. Lee Jinki, their leader to the end.

"State your purpose," a female voice said on the third code pass.

"Intelligence Code Blue," he replied. He glanced up at his secretary, who remained silent and immobile.

A long, beep echoed from the phone until finally a voice he did not recognize spoke.

He listened for a good number of minutes, not talking, not even moving in his seat. He knew if he had a mirror installed right in front of him, it would have shown an expression of horror and disbelief dawning on his face.

At the moment, the mirror was his secretary's face.

When the call ended, he did not say anything but only stared right back at Lee Bong Seong.

She was the one who cut the tension by saying, "You promised me it was all over. But you know I'd do anything for you, Key-sshi."

Kibum ran a hand through his hair and dropped the phone with a clatter back into it's secret cubby-hole beneath his desk. "I have to leave for the border in November. There are some things they need me for." He looked up at her face and entreated, "Help me one last time, Huai-sshi. Help me help Jonghyun."

His secretary let out a bitter laugh as she stood, shaking her head. "The things a Shawol will do, right? What exactly do you need me to do for you again?"

While he detailed the plan to her, Kibum knew in his heart it was not a foolproof plan, that a sacrifice might have to be made in the end for its completion. It was the only way they could prevent another war from happening, even if he disagreed with the order. He knew, logically, to get Jonghyun out of the North and back to the South was equivalent to a suicide mission. If so, he cannot risk everyone joining that mission. _They_ cannot risk everyone joining that mission.

The choice was not his; it has already been made by the powers he bowed to.

The same decision-makers, the same power-players.

And him, the same chess piece on a board without limits.

The moment his secretary left him alone to do his bidding, albeit reluctantly, Kim Kibum took the old phone out again, flung it into the aquarium in his office, and went back to his assessment of the dusk-lit view of Seoul. 


	13. A Quiet Music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silent waters run deep.

 

 

 

 

_**26 August 2017** _

_**Seoul** _ _**,** _ _**South Korea** _

 

_Summer was in full swing over the Korean peninsula, the heat more stifling in the densely-populated capital of the country. Jinki peered outside the prosecutor's office window, situated three floors up from the street. The sight of a middle-aged ahjumma serving shaved ices for pedestrians caught his interest. No reason; his eyes just went there._

_Behind him, his manager and two representatives from SM were discussing in hushed tones, their voices mixed with the sound of shuffling papers and the hum of the office's split-type airconditioning unit. Jinki turned around when he heard the door open and in came a middle-aged woman in a dark suit, briefcase in one hand. She shook hands with everyone, including Jinki, a professional smile on her face. Jinki bowed and, to his surprise, felt her hand ruffle his hair._

_Park Mi Na was the defense lawyer SM hired to settle the sexual harassment case against Jinki, a consequence of his stupidity and lack of self-control and discipline. Whether he gets off lightly or not, Jinki knew he will forever regret that morning of August 12 for the rest of his life. Attorney Park came highly recommended and had already been in contact with SM's lawyers. Today was the first time she was seeing Jinki._

_Attorney_ _Park_ _waved them to sit on the couches inside her office. The door opened a little and a younger man's face poked in._

_"No, I won't be needing you for this, Deok Ha, thank you,"_ _Attorney_ _Park_ _said. The young man nodded and closed the door after leaving._ _Attorney_ _Park_ _turned to the group and said, "If you don't mind, I'd like to speak with the defendant alone."_

_Jinki and his manager exchanged glances while the SM lawyers immediately stood. Jinki nodded to manager-hyung and the three men left the office, leaving Jinki still seated on the couch._ _Attorney_ _Park_ _left her briefcase on top of her desk and approached Jinki. Jinki shot up from his seat, instinctively lowering his head in respect._ _Attorney_ _Park_ _scoffed and waved him back down. Jinki waited for the lawyer to sit on the coach across from him before taking his own._

_"How have you been, Lee Jinki-sshi?"_

_The question took Jinki aback. He hunched over and gave a little bow. "I am fine, I think."_

_"My daughter and my younger sister are fans of your idol group so I am quite familiar with you,"_ _Attorney_ _Park_ _said, eyeing Jinki. "My sister favors you the most, my daughter likes the youngest one. I think I know the reason why."_

_Jinki could feel his ears turning red and bowed again. "I appreciate your words, Park seonsaengnim."_

_"But that's neither here nor there," she quickly said. "I just wanted you to tell you that bit of information. They're not going to help you—I am. I've read the police report and the blotter; I also spoke with your agency's lawyers. The details of the events of August 12 are already known to me."_ _Attorney_ _Park_ _leaned back. "What I am interested in are your thoughts on the issue. I am saying it is an 'issue' because from a legal standpoint, there is no case when the alleged victim did not formally charge you with anything. Everything that proceeds from here will be taken cared of by the Prosecutor's Office, as is the law. I am here as a kind of consultant for your lawyers, and the face that the Prosecution will have to see should a formal case be opened and we go to trial. Do you understand that at least?"_

_Jinki nodded slowly but he was still a little confused. "Does that mean I won't have to go to jail?"_

_The lawyer grunted, her dark probing eyes on him. "Even if you deserved to, I don't think your agency will let that happen. Still, whether it's jail time or the payment of fines, the SPO will determine that for you. For now, however, the only piece still left before we complete the documentation are the statements."_

_Attorney_ _Park_ _paused for a moment before asking, "What were you thinking about when you finally realized you were not going to get off lightly at the police station?"_

_Jinki inwardly cringed. The truth was, he barely remembered specifics of that morning. He knew he was piss drunk and he knew he was in trouble when the woman wouldn't stop talking and pointing at him to the police officer. Even so, he could at least remember what he was feeling._

_"I felt...nothing."_

_Or what he didn't feel._

_"Nothing?"_ _Attorney_ _Park_ _asked, an eyebrow raised. "What do you mean by that?"_

_"Honestly, I really was too drunk," he explained. "When she won't accept my apology and we went with the police officer to the station, I just didn't feel anything. I wasn't angry with her or anyone. I just remember wanting to go home. I could say I was more frustrated than angry."_

_"And when you were sober enough? After that day?"_ _Attorney_ _Park_ _prompted, a small forwn on her face._

_Sighing heavily, Jinki stared at a spot on the floor. "I thought I screwed up in a very big way, that there was no way I was going to have it easy. I thought about my parents, especially Eomma—"_

_Jinki heard, felt, his voice break. He didn't want to cry in front of this woman but thinking about his mother made the guilt and shame in his heart that much heavier and harder to carry. Still, he struggled and calmed himself down enough to say, "I thought about the other members in SHINee and I felt sorry to them, at the well-made plans that I ruined because I drank too much."_

_He heard something like crinkling paper and when he looked, it was to see a pack of tissue paper being waved at him. He gratefully took a piece and wiped his eyes._

_"Tell me your thoughts about women, or a female, in general," she suddenly said. Jinki frowned in confusion at the strange question._

_"I'm sorry?"_

_Attorney_ _Park_ _merely stared at him and repeated her question. Jinki blinked furiously, trying to think of what to say about his thoughts on women to a woman who could be as old as his mother._

_"No thinking too much, Lee Jinki-sshi," she gently admonished. "Just tell me what you think about when it comes to the female person, off the top of your head."_

_"Eomma," he said immediately._

_"Your mother? Okay. Go on. What about her as a female?"_

_"She's...She has longish hair, small eyes. She's a bit short." Jinki stopped._

_"And?"_

_He could say nothing more._

_Attorney_ _Park_ _leaned forward. "Is it difficult to see your mother as a woman, Lee Jinki?_

_"Er, no..."_

_"You don't see the things that make her female?"_

_Jinki thought the questioning was becoming strange. "Well, she wears dresses and skirts—"_

_"You don't see her legs? Her hips? Her breasts?"_

_Jinki's brain shut down at the last. "W-What?"_

_Attorney_ _Park_ _looked unfazed. "Your mother is a woman, surely she has breasts, the things must have fed you as a baby, possibly?"_

_If Jinki could have melted into the floor, he would. "Um, maybe..."_

_"And her legs must be different from yours and your father's, so are her hips; they're shaped differently, the skin is different, is that correct?"_

_Jinki opened his mouth to say something but there was nothing firing in his brain._

_"Any sisters, Lee Jinki? Female cousins? Sisters of friends? Female friends?"_

Jonghyunnie has Sodam-noona—Oh, no! Please, don't ask me about her breasts and legs and hips, please...

_"Are the questions making you uncomfortable, Lee Jinki? Or is it making you more uncomfortable because a woman is asking you these questions?"_

_"Yes, I'm sorry, seonsaengnim..."_

_Attorney_ _Park_ _was silent for several moments._

_"If you hunch any lower you're about kiss the coffee table. Look at me, Lee Jinki-sshi."_

_Jinki obeyed._

_"There were no other direct witnesses to the event nor were there CCTV cameras trained on the spot where you allegedly touched the victim inappropriately multiple times but in cases of sexual harassment, once is enough. And, without physical evidence, there is no way for anyone to determine intent, save for your testimony. Your lawyers don't know, I don't know. And as drunk as you say you were that morning, you don't know either."_

_Jinki nodded in shame._

_"I asked you those questions because your answers will give me a picture of who you are as a man first and foremost, Lee Jinki-sshi" she explained. "Not the leader of a popular kpop idol group. Not the actor. Not the celebrity your agency sold you to be to the public. I am after the reason why your hand allegedly made its way to that girl's leg. It has nothing to do with where she was at in relation to you physically. My question is whether she deliberately positioned herself in your path or not, if you weren't three sheets to the wind, would you have touched her anywhere?"_

_Jinki blinked, not sure if the question was rhetorical or not._

_"If I may share with you an observation," she began. "A lot of Korean men, perhaps because of tradition and culture, live with a sense of otherness. It's not always a bad thing. Men are physically stronger and use that advantage to protect the physically weaker, already attributed to women in general. There are things only men can adequately do with the least amount of physical effort as compared to women. That's fine. That's biology. The 'otherness' becomes a problem when it is used to dominate and take advantage for selfish reasons. It's not always about sexual desire. It could merely be simple fascination because of curiosity about something new or different. Yet the urge to take action, to touch without permission or to covet, that's what makes the fascination and curiosity even more serious. And when a man goes beyond set limits, it can become dangerous. Are you following me?"_

_"Yes, seonsaengnim."_

_"Settling your issue will take a long time once the SPO has the papers, did they tell you that? Let's face it, it's not an issue of a national level. It's a civil suit, for lack of a better term. But there's a chance it could get itself elevated to one that is sensational enough to warrant attention from the courts. The truth is, I want to see that when I go to represent you and defend you, I at least know where to get my defense. Nothing about what I will put on paper or say to the prosecution will be conjecture about Lee Jinki. So, tell me now, young man, what do you think about when it comes to women?"_

_"I like women."_

_That was all that came to him._

_Park Mi Na smirked. "All right, Lee Jinki-sshi. You like women."_

_Jinki found himself grinning despite his discomfort. "Yes, I like women. Very much."_

_The lawyer laughed then nodded. "You like women. We can start from there."_

_So he spent the better part of the next hour exchanging stories with the lawyer, the session punctuated with moments of uproarious laughter. They both fell silent when Jinki thought he had exhausted himself of stories._

_Until Park Mi Na in all seriousness said, "The training you boys get in SM must really be topnotch. Your face and your body language is something else...you've been lying to my face all this time, Mr. Lee."_

_Jinki must have stared at her like a deer caught in headlights for many minutes, perhaps another hour._

_"You can't always take the fall for someone else," she continued, seemingly uncaring if Jinki looked like he was about to pass out on her couch. He certainly felt like it. "Why are you so afraid to be the victim?"_

_Jinki kept silent._

_"You know, it's people like you who confuse other people when it comes to justice," she said pointedly. "When I told you about a man's 'otherness', do you believe that even such an attribute can be taken advantage of by a woman? A woman is not all hair, breasts, hips, and a reproductive system. A woman can also have a brain but a conscience isn't always necessarily a part of the mix. I don't know if it's an idol thing or if it's how you were raised. But you must understand that there's more at stake here for me than just saving a talented young man from punishment. Saying you are at fault when you really aren't also paints a picture that can damage all male idols in the future. Tell me the truth, Lee Jinki-sshi. No matter how drunk you were, if you were able to come willingly to the police station, unassisted, I find it impossible you wouldn't have known or realized you were grabbing a human leg and not a steel pole."_

_Jinki—the deer about to become roadkill._

_"Did you touch that girl anywhere on her person?"_

_Silence._

_"Did SHE touch you anywhere on your person?"_

_Silence._

_"Did someone else touch her anywhere on her person?"_

_Silence._

_"Is she the one lying? Are you both lying?"_

_Silence...and a heartbeat._

_Park Mi Na shook her head at him and sighed deeply. "I can settle this quietly for you, yes; I'm the best at my job. But I hope to heaven I don't get another client like you, Lee Jinki-sshi. I don't like liars even if it's for the greater good. Justice is justice...and no one is getting any in this case. In other words, I will be getting paid to do nothing to that end. Too bad." She paused to give him one last probing look. "I guess I better call the others in."_

_She rose and settled behind her desk, pressing on the intercom to summon her secretary and Jinki's companions. They did not speak with each other for long and after several minutes, they said their farewells._

_As Jinki gave her a 90-degree bow outside her doorway, he felt her hand ruffle his hair like she did earlier before shoving a notebook into his hand._

_When he straightened himself, she shut the door on his face._

* * *

 

Pain shot up from his ear to his scalp, causing Jinki to raise a hand in alarm.

"You flicked my ear! What was that for?!" he snapped at Minho.

The both of them were on their way to Jinki's restaurant after dropping off his son at the local elementary school. One of the staff members went on sick leave and Minho offered to help. Although Jinki knew Minho wan't really of much use in the kitchen, it was better than leaving Minho alone at home. He knew Minho had his own personal problems. Minho needed a friend and, if Jinki was being honest to himself, he needed one, too. 

"Hyung, the light turned green twenty seconds ago and now you missed it," Minho said, pointing at the traffic light which shifted from amber to red. "You've been grinning goofily at the dashboard. What were you thinking?"

Jinki chuckled. "Remember that trouble I got involved in back in 2017, when I got drunk?" At Minho's nod, he continued, "I just recalled the lawyer lady who handled my papers for the SPO."

Minho cackled."Ah, the lady who kept asking you about, you know, 'women stuff'."

"Yeah! I think she was a bit crazy but she was also very good at what she did," said Jinki. "She was cool."

Minho raised an eyebrow. "Older women...what is it with you and older women, hyung?"

The image of Jung Min Seo in his room's bathroomat the Kumgangsan Hotel flashed in his mind. Jinki shook the image away...forced it away....with much effort.

"Don't be a hypocrite, you're just the same," Jinki countered, finally noting the green light and pressing on the gas pedal.

"Yeah."

Minho grinned, nodding while he rummaged through the glove compartment, only found two of Jinki's notebooks, then closed the door. Minho knew better than to touch those notebooks of his.

Jinki glanced sideways. "You don't talk much about Australia."

Minho exhaled. "But you know already without me telling you, hyung. We're not...well."

There was a beat of silence before Jinki spoke. "Before Jung Hee was diagnosed with cancer...maybe a few months or a year, we had a really bad fight. It wasn't anything deep but it triggered a lot of nasty feelings. She threatened to divorce me."

Jinki's eyes remained on the road ahead but he could feel Minho turning in his seat to look at him.

"What?"

Nodding, Jinki said, "She threatened and I wasn't thinking clearly that time because I actually dared her to do it. I packed my bags and left the apartment we were renting out back then."

"No way," Minho muttered.

"I really don't remember the details but I recall I'd been out jogging and she's there waiting for me in the kitchen, just got home from when she used to work as a hospital nurse. I went to the fridge to get cold water and I think I forgot to return the pitcher and she just blew up on me. I've never seen Jung Hee act like that."

"And you blew up on her, too?"

Jinki sighed. He debated whether to tell Minho that part of his life he had never told anyone. The next traffic light turning red decided for him.

"That morning I saw Jung Min Seo near our apartment."

He turned to see Minho's gigantic eyes grow even wider. "Jung Min Seo...THE UN Secretary General?!"

Jinki nodded, hands gripping the steering wheel. Minho whistled.

"I'd have never...so that's why back at her house...wow. Daebak!"

"Yah! Don't laugh! It's not funny!" Jinki scolded.

Minho scoffed. "I'm laughing because it sounds ridiculous! You?! I've had a hunch since arriving at that house but, wow! Wow!"

"Right. You can stop that now," Jinki deadpanned. "Shut up if you want to hear the rest of what I was going to say."

So Minho kept silent.

"Where was I? Oh, yeah. Well, I didn't, we didn't talk that morning. I just saw her. And seeing her maybe opened something inside of me. All I wanted that morning was to go home, look at my wife, and not regret anything I did after I left Jung Min Seo's office. And then Jung Hee snaps at my head. So we got into a shouting match and the next thing I knew, I was in my car with my clothes at the back, heading off to nowhere."

"Did you go back to your parents' house?" asked Minho.

Jinki shook his head. "No, I couldn't face Eomma and Appa and their questions."

"You stayed in a hotel? Or, heck, Kibum's place? Seems like a lot of people actually go there and he adopts actual people."

"No, no one knew. You're the only other person who knows now. I just stayed in my car and slept at saunas for a week. I went to work at the restaurant and no one knew I wasn't going home. But after a week, I swallowed my pride and went home. Jung Hee wasn't there."

"So she left, too."

"She left to find me...at all the sauna houses she could find when she wasn't at work," Jinki said, smiling. "It just so happened that she kept missing me because I kept changing saunas. I said I was sorry and she said she was sorry and that was it. We never got into another fight of the same magnitude as that."

"Did she ever know about you and your boss?"

Jinki shrugged. "I doubt if Jung Hee ever did know. We made sure— _she_ made sure—nobody caught even a whiff of what was going on. You know how I am. I don't like talking about things that don't need to be said. But Jung Hee's not like that. She's like quiet music, calms you down, that's why she's so good as a nurse. She's very gentle and softly-spoken but she's not a coward; she confronts issues head on. Had she known, she would've confronted me in that manner."

"You never told her then."

"Like I said, I don't like talking about things that don't need to be said. What would have been the point? Jung Min Seo and I cut off all our ties before I even dated Jung Hee. She didn't have to know."

"If Jung Hee was alive today, would you have told her what you're doing with Jung Min Seo now?"

"If Jung Hee was alive today, I wouldn't even have accepted the job at all," Jinki countered quickly.

"Not even for Jonghyun-hyung?"

"I would've found someone else to do it or gone around it but no, I wouldn't be working anywhere near Jung Min Seo," declared Jinki, already feeling a dark pit opening inside his chest while he spoke.

Minho hm-ed. "The lady must've done a number on you that bad, hyung." He drummed his fingers on the dashboard after a moment and said, "Why can't love ever be so simple, hyung? Why can't life?"

Jinki looked up at the traffic light.

"I wish I knew the answer, Minho-goon. We can only do our best and keep going. That's the only simple thing about anything, even love."

The car behind honked and the light turned green.

 

* * *

 

_**December 12, 2028** _

_**Seoul** _ _**Crematorium** _

_**Gyeonggi-do,** _ _**Seoul** _

 

 

_**"To the person who made me find back the words,** _

_**Lost love** _

_**Can you come closer?"** _

 

_Jinki's grasp on the box in his hands tightened as Jonghyun finished the song Jung Hee requested be sung on her last funeral day. It was out of tradition but Jung Hee had begged him and his parents to make it happen. She had wanted him to sing it._

_But Jinki knew he did not have the courage. He did not have the right._

_So he had asked Jonghyun if he could sing it in his stead since Kim Yeon Woo was out of the country. Jonghyun was kind enough to say yes._

_It bothered Jinki a little why Jung Hee had chosen Kim Yeon Woo's "Closer". True, he was a fan of Kim Yeon Woo. But he didn't expect Jung Hee to request that particular song. In fact, Jung Hee wasn't even a fan of Kim Yeon Woo._

_A light tap on his shoulder made him turn and saw it was Kibum._

_"You're leaving today for_ _Japan_ _? You're not going to be able to wait for_ _Minho_ _?" he asked. Kibum nodded morosely._

_"Taeminnie's in the ICU, I was told. The surgery—what, his fourth? Fifth?—failed again. I thought I should go visit. I'll just give_ _Minho_ _a call."_

_Jinki pursed his lips then said, "Tell them I'll try to visit him, too."_

_Kibum made a tutting sound. "Don't concern yourself about that. Taeminnie's better off in_ _Japan_ _right now and they also send their condolences." He saw Kibum throw a questioning glance at Jonghyun who was now being talked to by some of Jinki's relatives._

_"He seems better now," Kibum remarked. "Better than when I last saw him."_

_"He's worried about Taeminnie. I think he might be flying over to_ _Japan_ _after you. Promise to take care of him while you're there?"_

_"You don't even have to say that. It's already done," Kibum promised, monetarily tightening his grip on Jinki's arm before heading off to speak with Jinki's parents._

_A few seconds later, Jonghyun was able to extract himself from Jinki's relatives and approached him as the funeral director began organizing everyone for the cremation rites._

_"Hyung, what are those?" asked Jonghyun, pointing to the box Jinki held._

_"Things I should've said to Jung Hee before she left," Jinki said hoarsely. He peered into the box, which contained close to fifty notebooks he filled with his thoughts since the year 2017. All his secrets, his angers, his desires, his hopes, his fears—all documented, as the therapist he'd seen then advised him. It was only after their marriage did he stop writing._

_The lies, the omissions, the war, Jung Min Seo..._

_"Do you really have to let her take them all away?"_

_Jonghyun looked towards the casket covered with flowers, Jung Hee's smiling photograph dominating the space._

_"Give your wife a little more credit, hyung. Maybe she didn't need too much of your words when she was alive. I don't believe she needs them now where she's going. I think maybe she already knew everything. That's how the really quiet ones are."_

_Jonghyun has always been the wisest of his friends, his PTSD notwithstanding. And Jonghyun had always had that innate sensitivity about other people. It was a gift that Jinki had often been envious of. How easy it was for his dongsaeng to talk to people freely. There was no effort. Jonghyun somehow always understood._

_So when Jinki watched his wife, the fan letters that he discovered under her pillow, and the box of notebooks burn in the fire, one of his hands still held on to an old tattered one—the very first—while the other carried their son. His link to the past and his path to the future._

He should start writing again _, Jinki thought._ Now more than ever.


	14. Medusa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dangerous. That's the word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to the lovely lady who turned me into a Shawol. You know who you are. 
> 
> Thank you, Ate.

 

 

 

 

_24 November 2017_

_Suntec_ _Convention Center_

_Singapore_

 

_The heat backstage was stifling._

_Minho_ _tried his best not to move where he stood somewhere between Taemin and Kibum. Meanwhile, two coordi-noonas from their Korean staff tried not to bump their handfans and handheld electric fans with his face. He kept telling them he can do with just one but the ladies were adamant. He glanced at Kibum whose face was currently being dabbed dry by a female staff._

_"Will we ever have a backstage that's so cold we couldn't move?" Kibum groaned, deciding to help the staff keep his stage make-up intact by grabbing a fan and fanning himself with it._

_"I'm not moving right now,"_ _Minho_ _remarked. "There must be a heat wave going on in_ _Asia_ _. It's not that cold yet back in_ _Korea_ _."_

_He turned a little to see the other two members better. Taemin was rehearsing their choreography on his own while Jonghyun was on the phone. After a few minutes, he ended the call and handed the phone to one of the staff._

_"Jinki-hyung called to wish us the best," he said, walking over to_ _Minho_ _but not before patting Taemin on the shoulder._

 _"How is he?" asked_ _Minho_ _worriedly._

_"He's at the recording studio; I forgot who he was with. He said he's recording something for our tenth anniversary album."_

_Minho_ _nodded to himself. There wasn't much Jinki-hyung could do under the circumstances._

 _"He really should stop reading stuff on the internet," Kibum suddenly said, also walking over to them. Taemin kept glancing at the three huddled together, seemingly unsure whether he should join or continue practicing. He finally stepped towards them when_ _Minho_ _motioned for him to come. "He's not going to read anything good there right now."_

_Taemin smirked. "Shouldn't you be telling yourself that, Kibum-hyung? You're always getting pissed off by people on SNS."_

_Kibum rolled his eyes. "Those things get me mad but they don't hurt me. They hurt Jinki-hyung...so that makes me mad. I'm not hurt; I'm mad. There's a difference."_

_Minho_ tsked _and waved his hand. "Come on, guys! Kibum-ah, being angry all the time isn't good, too."_

_Kibum heaved a sigh, shaking his head after. "We shouldn't be like this."_

_Minho_ _felt Jonghyun's hand on his back. "Truth is, I'm worried about seeing the fans out there._

_I don't know what to show them."_

_"I'm scared of seeing them cry,"_ _Minho_ _confessed. "I won't know what to say."_

_Jonghyun let out a mirthless laugh. "So this is what it feels like to be the hyung. I don't envy Jinki-hyung his position. Never did. This sucks."_

_"I never liked it when we have one of us missing," they heard Taemin from behind. "The fans look like it's the end of the world or something. I always feel so sorry."_

_Finally, one of the production staff called out to them, announcing it was their turn to go onstage. The music for their introductory VCR began to play and the four walked towards where they will be entering the stage._

_Jonghyun gave each of them a squeeze on the arm as one by one they filed onto the stage to the loud screaming and cheering of fans._

_Minho_ _gave the audience a quick look and wished he had not because the first thing he saw was a banner declaring support for Jinki-hyung. And a crying fan was holding it up high._

_He exchanged looks with Jonghyun and stiffened his spine as the introductory strains of "View" began to play._

_They will just have to wing it._

* * *

 

A concert.

"Can we be any more original?" Minho asked sarcastically immediately after the idea was brought up by Jung Min Seo during a meeting to finalize their plans of extracting Jonghyun from the north.

"There really isn't any other way to get easy entry into Pyeongyang than to fake a concert," one military man said.

"We can't do 'fake' concerts," Kibum interjected, sharing a "This is ridiculous!" facial expression with Minho. "If we sing and dance while holding a microphone on a stage, then, it's called an actual concert."

Jung Min Seo nodded, unfazed. "That is the case, yes. And that is what has to happen. That will be your cover."

Jinki kept his head down, frowning at the stack of papers in front of him. "They wouldn't be asking too much about me, would they? I know there are still some people in Pyeongyang who will recognize me from the war."

"Better you than Minho-yah," Kibum stated. "Or, me."

Jinki looked up. "That's true."

Jung Min Seo turned to one of the generals. "General Kim, the best option is of course to go through the DMZ both ways, with Kim Jonghyun on the return trip, hidden, of course. But should that not happen, what is the contingency?"

General Kim, a tall man in his seventies with gray hair and sunken features, whose father had been a general in the days of the Korean War, replied, "Passing through the DMZ at any point along its entirety is too risky. The next best possible way is to exit through China or go further north to Russia."

"But that border with Russia is too off course from where Kim Jonghyun was last detected and is thought to be right now," reminded Jung Min Seo.

"But for us to head to China, we have to cross the Amnok River first," Minho supplied, pointing to the giant map of North Korea laid out before them, his finger tapping the Amnok/Yalu label. "And since the war, those borders have been heavily guarded by the Chinese. The less we involve China in this, the safer it will be for the extraction team. The North isn't exactly on good terms with China these recent years."

Kibum shrugged empathically. "Who is? Even the alternatives feel somehow wrong, I have to say. I feel like we're heading inside a maze blindly to meet a monster and then expected to make a clean break out of the place!"

Jinki shook his head, frowning. "Going south is just as risky, though, Minho-yah. We can't cross out from there."

Minho whipped his head towards Jinki. "What do you mean, 'we'? Isn't this supposed to be just _me_?"

Minho looked at Jinki accusingly, then at Jung Minseo, and Kibum. The three kept silent. Taemin was somewhere in the room but Minho refused to look in his direction.

"You will be given four days out of the 7seven we will lobby with the North Korean government," Jung Min Seo instructed, handing Minho a thin sheaf of papers which included coordinates and an outline of what he must do while in the North. "During that time, the rest of the team, or your members, will be stationed in Pyeongyang with their own activities to distract the officials."

"If I go missing, that won't be missed or ignored by the North Korean security detail," Minho stated, his eyes skimming down the document in his hands.

"A song and dance number isn't all you're going to do for a cover, Choi _byeongjangnim_ ," one of the younger generals in the room said. "We are preparing a request for you to be allowed to view a tumulus from the time of Goryeo—in place of your wife. She's a Korean literature professor, correct?"

Mention of his wife filled Minho with trepidation. Not only was she unaware of what he's up to, she'll also be unaware he'll be using her name and credentials to get closer to Jonghyun...to danger.

In another life, Na Ra would have loved to see those burial mounds with him.

But he'd rather be dead before he allowed his wife, divorced or not, that deep into the north.

"And if that request is denied?" he asked.

"You will proceed with the concert," Jung Min Seo said, her eyes directed at Jinki. "But you will all come back here the same way you will enter Pyeongyang. And then Choi Minho will regroup with another team, active soldiers this time, who will operate dark. Mission is covert, of course. You will have to enter China and pass through the River Yalu or the Amnok. Russia is out of the question; the cold there will kill you before you can even go south."

Operate Dark. Covert mission. Deniable.

In the military, to go dark means to deny one's identity—name, affiliation, race, nationality, origin. You become no one and are no one. Should your life be lost in the process, the enemy can never identify you or your sponsor—in this case, the Korean government. You don't exist. The mission does not exist. You are on your own.

_I won't exist. Like before._

Minho could feel his members' eyes on him. He wanted to reassure them but what could he say? As time passed, he became more and more convinced that either Jonghyun-hyung was dead or that he will die trying to get Jonghyun, dead or alive, back to the South. Jinki had volunteered and pleaded to accompany him to find Jonghyun but Minho refused his company, saying he has a son and parents to take care of. Jinki countered him about his own children and parents.

"I have a brother who can take care of my parents and a wife who can take care of our children," he argued. "Even when I'm gone, someone else can take my place."

Jinki had gotten so angry then and, without saying anything, walked out on Minho.

When he told Kibum about the argument, Kibum rolled his eyes and spat, "Good for you, you have alternatives. But we don't. If you're gone, we have no one to replace you. As if you can be replaced. You're an idiot, Choi Minho."

That was a few days ago.

Minho finished reading the mission outline in his hands and looked up at Jung Min Seo and the generals in the dining room of Jung Min Seo's house. "If it were solely up to me, I'd rather just go to China and trace Jonghyun-hyung from there. But since that seems more risky on the get-go, fine. We'll try the concert. So when are we expected to leave?"

General Kim spoke up. "In three weeks. It will be on the fourth of November. Our contacts in Pyeongyang assured us that the request for a goodwill concert has been elevated to their Supreme Chairman on Foreign Relations. We expect an answer by the third week."

Nodding, Minho's eyes once more made the rounds on all of his members. Jinki and Kibum in deep conversation, Taemin—

Taemin had been quiet at the back the entire meeting.

For a moment their eyes met. Taemin's face remained neutral.

While the rest of the room continued discussing on specifics, Minho reached out for a metal trash bin, lit a fire under the documents in his hand, and threw the burning sheets and maps inside.

He could feel Taemin's eyes on him and knew Taemin had wheeled himself closer to where he sat.

Politeness or whatever it was prompted Minho to ask, "Can you perform in that?" Minho momentarily glanced at Taemin's EKSO mobility device.

Taemin smiled. "I was assured we wouldn't be doing any dancing. It's going to be a simple concert, lowkey, as they say." After a second's pause, Taemin said, "It will be more fun if there was dancing, right? But only anime produces dancing cages as of the moment."

Minho was lost for words and even thought, as years of guilt once again resurfaced, making it hard for him to breathe.

Taemin seemingly unaware of the effect of his words, continued with a question, "Why did you burn those papers? They're not." Taemin looked about them to point out how no one else was discarding or destroying their copies.

Minho muttered, "Old habit." _Because this is the only copy of my specific orders. For my eyes only_.

As the sheets of paper turned to ash and Taemin left his side to talk to Kibum, Minho muttered, "Protocol."

Old habit. Protocol. A job. A decision.

_The mission doesn't exist. Like before._


	15. I'm Breathing and Believing and I Stand Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The flame of love burns among the roses.

 

 

 

Lee Taemin could not sleep.

After a two-hour video call with his parents who were in Yokohama, he had wheeled himself straight to the veranda at the back of the house. A garden was built beyond it, more a rose garden with a folly and an arbor packed with blood red hybrid tea roses called Mister Lincolns. The space used to be a children's playground, with a basketball ring and a pair of metal swings.

But Taemin obviously had no need of those. He was not a child. He probably never was.

And he will never have children.

That night was the night he came back from the meeting with his SHINee members and the people who wanted Kim Jonghyun back in South Korea. He was prone to sombre moods and long quiet hours and preferred solitude but he was more withdrawn than usual after that meeting. Nobody else was allowed inside the room. Back home, nobody else was allowed with him in the veranda.

He told his parents he was going on a trip to the North, at least he was honest with them about that. Of course he could not tell them he was going to bring his Jonghyun-hyung back. He could not tell them he might not even go back. He was going into danger and into a land unknown to him.

Unknown to all of them, even the ones who'd been inside the North.

He thinks not of the accident or the destruction when he goes under the arbor and touches the crimson petals. He goes back to the time before, when he had his legs and his plans, blueprints of concerts and solo tours. The possibility of a film. A variety show. A spot on the board of directors of his agency.

He was a dancer, the greatest of his generation. And even now, as his country struggles to pick up after the devastation of war and new entertainers are given their spotlight, nobody has ever come close to what he and his legs had achieved.

Taemin lost his beautiful legs and along with them his dreams and a future he envisioned too late. Perhaps he regrets it now, wanting the important things in life too late. Wanting them now and having to deny the want because the fulfilment was denied to him for life.

For all his experiences as a celebrity starting at the age of sixteen when he suddenly became the darling of South Korea, Lee Taemin knew so little of the world outside of his youthful joys and outside of his adult pains. So far, the pains seemed to have trumped the joys. He is reminded of it when he pricks himself on the thorns. A millisecond of hurt, a bead of blood, and a lifetime in a moving cage.

He did not hide himself from the world, however. Lee Taemin had the courage to face the new future he was given. He fought for his life, and the life of Jonghyun in Guangzhou, and he damn well deserved something good for it.

Now he is going again to fight but he does not know what he is up against. He knows what he wants but a battle must happen first. Some pains have to be borne. That's life.

But I don't intend on watching him fight for his life again. He can have everything back. I will give everything back to him. The thought always makes me smile. Joy will replace his pain... _our_ pain, at all cost.

He still breathes. He will have his future. He will dance again.

"Are you there?" His voice is always so soft and gentle. The scent of roses lead his words to me.

"Yes."

"I can't sleep."

"Okay. Let me help you, Taemin-sshi."

I step into the roses because I am allowed.

Always.


End file.
